From bubbles to baubles: A beau's gift guide
For the admirer from afar or those who simply can’t find the time to meet. Surely, I will find a way to show my gratitude...
You've heard this kind of story before, but I’d like to tell it again. I am one of those girls with a cherubic face cut by unfairly sharp cheekbones. My hair has the thickness most people envy and in July, my porcelain skin warms to the color of sandalwood. You might be tempted to ask for my real name. It’s flattering in a way, the desire to know someone so deeply.
Born in the Year of the Monkey, I am naturally silly and mischievous. I love to laugh. I spend too much money on shoes and I care too much. I wish I were better at eavesdropping, but it’s probably better I mind my own business. On the rare occasion I wear jewelry, small studs rest on my earlobes, winking in the sun as if to clutch onto as much light as they can. I’m most at ease when the weather is sunny, people are kind, and 24/7 bodegas are within walking distance. The most vulnerable thing I can tell you is that I pretend I’m not a romantic, but I really, really am.
I have a soft spot for men who are nice to their mothers and can fuck hard. On dates every detail feels so full of promise: the way my shirt clings to my body, the musk of cologne mingling with mine, the clumsy clink of champagne glasses, the oyster on my tongue briny and metallic. I imagine the small of my back so delicate that god had pressed his hands there, as if to dare you to replace them with yours….
Simply, I’m looking to be adored. I’m looking for the magical stretch between nervous excitement and resigned comfortability, that electric space before listless limbs grow heavy in deep sleep. Here, we can create that, forever. All we need for a good time is some bubbly, lingerie, and a suspension of disbelief. Let’s get dressed in our best silks and manipulate time, darling.
Things that make me happy
In the summer, aperol spritzes, frosés, palomas
Ice cream trucks
The color pink
Jo Malone candles
Fashion and design