So I'm vacationing in Saint-Tropez, playing pétanque with Diane Kruger and Vanessa Paradis, at sunset, barefoot on the grass in a chiffon maxi dress, delicately pastel printed, holding my coral sandals nonchalantly in one hand as I toss the metal boule with the other...just a typical evening on the Riviera. Also, somehow, it's the 70s - we've all gone back in time and Mick Jagger is serenading me.
= my life story if it were penned by Karl Lagerfeld.
Back to reality, to sunny (finally) Amsterdam, a starving artist sitting cross-legged on the floor in jean shorts and a tee, drinking from a mini keg of Heineken. This isn't so bad at all...I really don't think I'd have it any other way. 15 year-old me would look at present me and think I was the coolest person ever. That's always a nice thought.