...I know I shouldn't be saying this, nor thinking this, nor going anywhere near my computer to silently type about this...
But I must. I am in love (again) with this beautiful little fellow.
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| Hello Lover |
There's just something so appealing about her. She's coquettish, content, happy-go-lucky, devil may care, and somehow manages to look to me like she's spent more than a little time skipping through the streets of Paris.
And did I mention I've always been a fan of the Lily? (dubious about Mulberry quality of late I must admit, but such issues pale into insignificance now).
At first I thought it was black suede - I could take that - but oh no. Nothing so obvious would be at work here. It is (of course) an utterly wondrous midnight blue - that never-bettered bed fellow of grey and denim. Be still my beating heart.
Perhaps it is a passing fancy (the fluttering in my chest would certainly point to such a conclusion) but I'm in those first heady days of a possible new dalliance, and I am beginning to believe such a pretty bag would make everything just that little bit rosier.
The worst of it is, I'm only just newly wedded to my current bag - a beautifully, perennially cool black Balenciaga number. Now that is a long term love affair that will last through the years. There was no fluttering heart when I purchased my City - just a calm certainty. (Don't worry I will cease and desist talking about bags like they matter a jot in just a second).
But I have often thought - conveniently I'll admit - that a gal needs more than one bag. (Three would be plain gauche, but two? Two strikes the right note don't ya think?) So this gal I speak of needs a burst of fun sometimes, a boost, to make her feel light of heart and young again.
My City does so much, and with such quiet, self-assured grace, but to skip off and kick up my heels with Lily every now and then, to throw caution to the wind and be foolish and fancy free... now that would be a delight.
Do you have anything in your wardrobe that lifts your mood so unfailingly?
Photograph credit: mulberry.com
p.s. If my poor boyfriend reads this he may just pass out.
