I like the Bohemian 60's French apartment my mind wanders into, the scent of fresh market flowers and the chime of jars filled with cheap champagne. The garden courtyard rings with laughter and the sound of a bicycle bell as the nerdy teacher in his tweed suit (with elbow patches and one shoe untied...) rolls in from his afternoon classes.
That's about it. I could add in details for the pretty print on the table cloth, and the fresh strawberries from the window box. There are the pretty cloth flats near the front door (with its brass handle and the A-line jacket hanging on its hook), the tea kettle with it's bright blue lacquer and the pretty white dishcloth hanging from the oven.
If I can't live in France and sip wine with my pretty French friend, at least I can twist my hair into this messy Chignon and add a little extra eyeliner. It's almost the same thing.
photo courtesy of This is Glamorous, courtesy of hiphipgingin
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