Tuesday, January 26, 2010
He was in grey (but he doesn’t matter). She was in black, along with her stick straight glossy raven hair that was the same color as mine but an enviable texture. Around her almond eyes was shadow so gossamer and perfect, it had to have been Dior or Nars, or Lorac. I doubt even MAC made its away near her dressing table. Her stomach was a round and taut testament to her role as kept woman, forever beautiful, forever on the arm of someone rich and ugly. Though an ornament, she appeared to be wise, and worldly, with a tiny half smile on her ruby lips (matte, with a touch of clear gloss over - probably Clarins). After she floated past us a scent of a vanilla topnote (probably Dolce & Gabbana and definitely not Bath and Body Works Warm Vanilla Sugar) whispered under my nose. I was in deep awe and recognition. I was briefly in love.