Topshop jacket, skirt, and boots, Zara tee, H&M bracelets, Forever 21 ring.
Saturdays in Brighton happen about once a month and are as entertaining as they are predictable. The night launches with a mandatory dinner at Pascal Brasserie before congregating with the boy's childhood friends for a full on reunion. Cocktails are consistently refilled, rounds of shots are ordered every 20 minutes, and everyone departs when they have lost the ability to stand. The boy and I crash at his Mother's, and habitually ravage her brimming fridge in a drunken, famished haze. We are so drained after the Sunday drive home the only possible conclusion is to cuddle up with movies and food until Monday rolls around. Today's menu will be a Thai feast, Tropic Thunder, and a few episodes of True Blood.
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