…in Tokyo. (From the wonderful Satorialist that keeps me on my toes)
Who is she?
Victorian lace speaks of a delicate sensibility. Military jacket adds a bold streak. Glossy 1950s hair sweeps with sensual waves. Black aviators whispers of dangerous liaisons. Nude decorative nails makes a feminine statement. The icy Starbucks drink cooly says that she’s not too cool to be mainstream.
And that tiny trace of a gold necklace…whimsical beyond belief and stunningly modern at the same time, also probably worth more than the entire outfit combined.
And those lips.
She may shop in Harajuku, but resides in Ginza. Doll-faced but wild. Bright but naïve. She never knew what she wanted and didn’t care to find out. Her smile is your weakness and lace is her choice of weapon.
Some day I will have all that (minus the starbucks), and walk with this:
Some day, in my own little spy thriller, I will be dangerous with curves in Tokyo.