I’m told that our lives aren’t worth much. They pass like an instant, like wilting roses. Time is slipping and I’m filled with it’s memories. I see the new day come at me like rain. It arrives in all it’s natural glory, whether you insist on it or not. Some days, I just don’t think I’m ready. I close my eyes back into the pillow, eyelashes blinking in the small amount of darkness left in the room. I want to stay here all day. Safe in my little world of garments and novels. Salinger and Hemingway will be my guide to life. Why believe there is anything outside of their created worlds?
Some days I forever imagine myself as Franny, Salinger’s slipping dreamer, beaten down by life and tired of everyone trying so hard. For me, it was always all about being a character anyway. I am Brigitte Bardot meets Edie Sedgwick meets Sailor Moon. But perhaps, those are just girls who wanted to be characters too.
Si, Quelqu’un m’a dit?
brown fur jacket by Lip Service
purple leopard shawl by Jac Vanek
pink skirt set by Tiger Mist
photos by Stefania Consarino