This is a shout out to the star of my Paris Fashion Week not the slippery lil suckers we ping ponged at every supper, nor the insanely perfect airbnb J booked so I could play house….
flatlay of luxe stuff . Sunday thoughts… ‘Nail polish on my fingernails: chips off when I sneeze. Nail polish on my toenails: survives a nuclear war’ …but first, coffee….
So truth be told.. The optical illusions kicking off in this dress jacket would give *Copperfield kittens! *David, not the Dickens And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say this waist…
So I lied. Mr. Luxe thinks he’s suffering the ferry ride to France for cut-price Sancerre and fondue fare. M a y d a y! ‘cos we’re signed up for a little off-shore couture….
