Dreaming of Louis Vuitton lace collars.
Dreaming of Louis Vuitton lace collars.
When I was young, my mother told me a story about a party she went to full of models. She had bought a killer outfit that she was sure was going to be knock-out. She arrived, and there was only one girl in the room everyone was staring at. She was wearing a simple black dress. I am obsessed with black. You’ll never look as sexy than when in black.
Forever a sucker for black tie. I think I’d prefer black tie to pyjamas.
Taken with instagram
Spring soon. (Taken with instagram)
Jacket and dress: Chanel Haute Couture S/S 2005
(Source: agoodthinghappened)
(Source: sweethomestyle)
(Source: retrogasm)
Travel bucket list.
Bora Bora. Argentina. Peru. Texas. Moscow. Tokyo. Kerela. Berlin. Stolkholm. Dehli. Rome. Iceland. Mexico. Cork. Galway. Tuscany. Brazil. Fife. Venice. Malta. California. Naples. Klone. New Orleans. Bolivia. Jamaica. New Zealand.
“Despite so much sociopolitical sexual progress, a woman who yearns to be dominated is still regarded as a woman who needs to be educated. I have been endlessly educated and I still yearn for a firm grip on my throat, yearn to be bound and told what to do and when to do it… Although a majority of sexual educators and experts would deem this desire valid and normal, the world at large accepts the deviancy with sometimes sympathetic but often scathing judgment.” - Stacey May Fowles (via andheartisdaft-deactivated20120)
I want an SLR.
(via thedaintysquid)
I do not like my state of mind;/ I’m bitter, querulous, unkind./ I hate my legs, I hate my hands,/ I do not yearn for lovelier lands./ I dread the dawn’s recurrent light;/ I hate to go to bed at night./ I snoot at simple, earnest folk./ I cannot take the gentlest joke./ I find no peace in paint or type./ My world is but a lot of tripe./ I’m disillusioned, empty-breasted./ For what I think, I’d be arrested./ I am not sick, I am not well./ My quondam dreams are shot to hell./ My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;/ I do not like me any more./ I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse./ I ponder on the narrow house./ I shudder at the thought of men…./ I’m due to fall in love again./
Symptom Recital by Dorothy Parker
(Source: 1-9-6-0-s)
(Source: slugpunx)
Pay day tomorrow. You know what that means.
(Source: aumunlimited)
