Topshop customized top, AA wet look skirt, Topshop boots, Miss Selfridge headband, Dorothy Perkins large bangle, vintage necklaces.
(my reliable outfit)
Sipping a foamy cappuccino while browsing Vogue editorials, the feather light touch of an overused tank when worn to bed on a sticky summer night, the embrace of his sweet, musky scent as you rest lightly against your lover's chest, a perfect, reliable outfit that seduces you to dance until sunrise.
My reluctance to a life of organization, and forward planning has not stunted a fondness for familiarities. I am a slight nomad, a modern nomad. We jump from one apartment to the next, shifting our preferences due to season, budget, and proximity to our new favorite bar. The inability to find commitment with a property has lead me to latch onto other habits that produce a feeling of home, no matter the location. Comforts are instead derived from rituals, experiences, food, garments, and most importantly, an extra large comfy bed.
I possess several fail-safe garments that ensure my confidence, comfort, and ease. Along with the boy's obsession for dining at every restaurant in the Zagat guide, we circulate a sprinkling of eateries where we are welcomed as friends, and order sans menu. A craving for Dominos always hits at noon on the day of a hangover, when the boy and I consume the piping hot delivery in bed. And Summer means several long weekends in Cannes, where we return to our quaint flat, and frequent the same beach we found over two years ago. Each custom can pacify my mood as quickly as a security blanket for a young child.
Tomorrow we jet off towards Hong Kong, a place I have visited every summer since the age of twelve, the city where the boy and I said our vows, a home for family, and one of my favorite shopping destinations. I can already feel the wet heat, see the disheveled racks of quirky shoes, and taste the oak scent of my Father's favourite bottle of Puligny-Montrachet. Can't wait for a perfect two weeks!
What are your favourite comforts?
My reluctance to a life of organization, and forward planning has not stunted a fondness for familiarities. I am a slight nomad, a modern nomad. We jump from one apartment to the next, shifting our preferences due to season, budget, and proximity to our new favorite bar. The inability to find commitment with a property has lead me to latch onto other habits that produce a feeling of home, no matter the location. Comforts are instead derived from rituals, experiences, food, garments, and most importantly, an extra large comfy bed.
I possess several fail-safe garments that ensure my confidence, comfort, and ease. Along with the boy's obsession for dining at every restaurant in the Zagat guide, we circulate a sprinkling of eateries where we are welcomed as friends, and order sans menu. A craving for Dominos always hits at noon on the day of a hangover, when the boy and I consume the piping hot delivery in bed. And Summer means several long weekends in Cannes, where we return to our quaint flat, and frequent the same beach we found over two years ago. Each custom can pacify my mood as quickly as a security blanket for a young child.
Tomorrow we jet off towards Hong Kong, a place I have visited every summer since the age of twelve, the city where the boy and I said our vows, a home for family, and one of my favorite shopping destinations. I can already feel the wet heat, see the disheveled racks of quirky shoes, and taste the oak scent of my Father's favourite bottle of Puligny-Montrachet. Can't wait for a perfect two weeks!
What are your favourite comforts?
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