There’s a version of me that lives in Paris.
She wakes slowly in a small sunlit apartment. Windows open. Coffee somewhere below. No rush. No plan. Just time.
She walks everywhere. Stops for a croissant she didn’t need but absolutely did. Sits at a café alone, watching the world like she belongs to it.
By evening, everything turns gold. She’s dressed just right. Dinner is long. Wine is longer. Maybe there’s someone across the table. Maybe there isn’t. It doesn’t matter.
Because she feels different there. She or rather me is wearing a gown with a slit to the thigh, daring and provocative.
At night, she is out again and again. The city glowing, full of quiet possibility. And she thinks this could be my life.
Reality is however, she is me, sat on a sofa in grey track pants and a blue T-shirt covered in bleach from cleaning,
CREDITS
Zaina outfit from [LIZIAAH] at the Designer Showcase
Reema EVOX head from CATWA
Pamela Hair from Doux
Carmen skin from the Skinnery in toffee
Ora body skin from the Skinnery in toffee
French Cafe Scene from Amitie
Isabelle Cheren 