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bag whore | lady dior

22 June 2010

It’s ironic, isn’t it, that the words “whore” and “lady” should appear in the same line. I suppose it’s not entirely paradoxical if you so happened to be mid-sentence summarizing Julia Robert’s transformation from a common whore to a high-society lady upon meeting Richard Gere in the ever classic film, Pretty Woman. (Actually, there’d be issues if someone never saw Pretty Woman…) But, as always, life surprises you, and there are firsts for everything.

I have had my fair share of little features for my blog that, somewhere along the way, fallen to the wayside: petite novellasWhy Don’t YouThings I Love ThursdayWhat’s In/What’s Out, etc. Few have survived the ordeal: Maintenant (updates on my oh-so-fabulous life in the New Jersey suburbs) and The Stylist’s Notebook, to be exact, are the survivors. A third is to be introduced, glamorously named Bag Whore. It’s simple. It’s straightforward. Not prettified nor Frenchified (which I’m quite guilty to doing much too often for my own good). Bag Whore. It is what it is, glorified in all its cheekiness. There’s a ring to it, non?

Why Bag Whore, though? Pourquoi, you ask? Ah, because I am one. Admittedly, I may love clothes, I may have an addiction to nail varnishes, but my one true vice lies in my obsession with bags. I started La Couturier shortly after stumbling across Bag Snob, and my first month’s worth of blog entries consisted largely of whatever “it” bag I fell in love with (it’s amazing to see how much I’ve grown – “it” is not longer a part of my vocabulary). In short, La Couturier was largely conceived from my adoration for handbags, their utter necessity, and the independence they represent for the woman. But that’s another story, for another day.

The Bag Whore will pop up spontaneously and impulsively. She (or me, rather), makes her first appearance today, featuring…

LADY Dior

{ collage by yours truly; images of bags from ladydior.com }

The LADY Dior is one of those decadent bags kept, and passed, as an heirloom between the women of the family. From grandmother, to mother, to daughter, easily carried in the crook of each woman’s arm regardless of age. It’s that classic.

Which makes it seem stodgy and grandmotherly. The LADY Dior has quite the stoic shape – rectangular and briefcase-like. I won’t argue with you on those counts. Notwithstanding, walk into a meeting [on time; being “fashionably late” is tacky unless it’s to a fête] and every individual in that conference room knows immediately that you mean business. The same speaks for an interview. The effect isn’t simply in reaction to that fact it’s Dior (and therefore fabulous), but because of the bag’s timelessness and austerity. Pull out the Moleskine (bonus points if it’s Hermès) journal, Mont Blanc, and Blackberry and they know you’re serious.

Further, judging by it’s boxy silhouette, I have no doubt about it’s sturdiness. Your most important necessities (the aforementioned plus your No. 2 Yves Saint Laurent Rouge Volupté) are guaranteed to be well-nested and secure. And should some rude chav come your way despite your ladylike attempts to escape his grasp, you could easily knock him out. With your LADY Dior. No, not with your knuckles. That, my dears, is not very lady-like.

{ image source: t h e f a s h i o n s p o t }

Isn’t the debut advert for the handbag stunning? It epitomizes everything a woman wants to be: Parisian, sophisticated, and a femme fatale clad in Dior (and black!) perched atop the Eiffel Tower. I do love that Marion Cotillard, Oscar-winning actress, is the muse; I never quite pictured her to be a Dior girl, but at the same time, I do feel she has embodied that image beautifully, and impeccably. The above advert is the first of the series; it sets the scene for Dior’s icon atop of the Eiffel Tower, whose architecture recalls the bag’s cannage (cannage, fr. n.: weaving strips of cane for making the seat or a seat back). I adore the reference.

{ image source: t h e f a s h i o n s p o t }

Chapter three of the Lady Dior saga takes Mme. Cotillard to Shanghai. It’s rare that any advert/editorial takes place on the continent of Asia, so props to Galliano’s creative team for directing this campaign there! This chapter features the edgier, more futuristic side – note the difference in location, background, and ensemble. Chapter one was classic and conservative, whilst this advert features a leather peplum dress (which I’m lusting after). Sure enough the styling is still safe, but nonetheless, beautiful.

Le sigh. I hope you do know that I fully intend on owning the LADY Dior. Sapphire patent leather? Or black lambskin. That, mes chéries, is ze question.

bisous,

La C.

giveaway | $100 giftcard to shopbop.com

19 June 2010

I haven’t blogged in exactly a week.

It’s not to say I haven’t tried; I have multiple drafts saved – started, and left unfinished – all due to a lack of inspiration. Being sickly hardly helps either. But I’m itching to publish something; I owe all you 322 (I’m absolutely flabbergasted!) followers some common decency at the least. Posting regularly must will resume, but before that ensues, I leave you all with a little thank-you-for-being-so-patient-with-me surprise…

I’ve been a massive fan of alice + olivia for as long as I can remember; it was their dresses that were love at first sight. Every design embodies the young, modern woman of today: girly, sophisticated, edgy, sexy. It’s cute, it’s quirky. But it’s also incredibly chic and sassy without becoming cliché. Le sigh. If only a girl could use her credit card[s] à la Rebecca Bloomwood (Confessions of a Shopaholic, darlings! You better have seen the film…) sans the financial repercussions and wear cocktail dresses all the time…

Lucky you, though! There’s a sale on loads of lovely alice + olivia, maintenant, on shopbop.com. Go now, I implore you, before the stock clears or they run out of your size whilst I window-shop, make mental wish lists, and live vicariously through your purchases. (It’s pathetic, I know.)

Should you be in my situation (hellooo, loader of-the-shopping-cart-but-never-hitting-check-out-now Anonymous!), or are simply in the mood to take a chance with dear old Fortune, listen (or read, rather), carefully! I’ve partnered with one of my favorite online boutiques (!), Shopbop.com, for a fantastic,  international giveaway. One of you darling readers will win a $100 giftcard to spend as you will – alice + olivia, here I come! – good towards anything from Shopbop.

ze rules.

Make sure yah follow them:

{+} Peruse shopbop.com and tell me your favorite alice + olivia piece and why in the comments below. Write a love letter to that wish list item, tell me where you’ll wear it, link it in the comments section. We are all entitled to our dreams!

{+} Be sure to leave a functioning e-mail address!

{+} Follow La Couturier via Bloglovin’. Okay. Just kidding. This isn’t really a required part of the giveaway rules, but it would be nice if you did take the time to follow! Only if you want to, though. I’m no dictatorial blogger!

{+} Giveaway ends Sunday, June 30th. That’s one full week before I pick the winner randomly. Hop to it, mes chéries!

One. Hundred. Dollars. towards anything from Shopbop.com – I’m only drooling slightly from the prospects of what I could buy with this gift card, but I shall not be selfish! This is a thank you to anyone who’s read this humble little blog of mine, from the one-timers to those of you who have followed me since the beginning. I’m not one who’s eloquent with words of sentimentality, so I’m hoping the money will do the talking (it usually does, anyway).

Merci.

bisous,

La C.

let’s go, let’s go little kitty kat.

10 June 2010

{ image source: t u m b l r }

I’d very much so like to crawl seductively alongside fireplaces filming adorable kittens in a pompadour and this colorful little number. Very, very much so.

It’s everything I want in a dress: off-the-shoulder, a bit unconventional, body conscious,  s e x y . It would be quite lovely for a graduation party, come to think of it, with a pair of black, strappy platform sandals and a bright pink lipstick. Mm.

bisous,

La C.

and karl lagerfeld gets the last laugh.

9 June 2010

{ image source: t r u e n o r t h s t y l e }

Or maybe not, since I’ve never once seen a snap of the Kaiser in anything resembling even the tiniest of grins. He may be stoic, but his designs are far from dry.

We often forget that fashion can – and should – be fun. Everything should be taken with a grain of salt (or a little Chanel-encased pill?); the industry itself may seems overbearing and serious with its cult following and all-or-nothing, melodramatic nature, but in the end, fashion can be humorous. Nothing is written in stone or made by the rules. Think about it – what you see in fashion today is but an aesthetically composed piece that once sprouted from a person’s doodles and imagination.

bisous,

La C.

P.S.: For all you curious non-pareils’ sweet tweets, messages, and e-mails asking about the prom (and yes, I did just call it the prom), it was absolutely fantastic, and one of the best nights of my life. Four/five hours of dancing, non-stop, can do no wrong in my eyes. The weekend, however, was quite interesting, and thus resulted with sleepless escapades. I’m still recuperating. (Thus the Chanel pills above.) Ah, rest, where art thou? Save me from these weeks of insanity and work. Or Father Time, hear my pleas. Extend the day to forty-eight hours so I can finish everything? Merci.

hold on, brb.

4 June 2010

Just kidding; I wish.

I’ll get there eventually, once I’ve hoarded enough savings to pay for one month’s rent. There’s no other way to live but to live fabulously broke in the city.

I’ll be away for the weekend, woohoo! Senior prom awaits tonight, and on to the weekend getaway by the notorious Jersey Shore. It’ll be grand, rain or shine, but it needs to happen now. I haven’t any hair/nail/makeup appointments – I’m doing it all by myself – so the four hour wait for pre-prom is a bit agonizing and unnecessary (thus the blog entry). I only need an hour, maximum, to prepare. Low maintenance is how I do; loose waves à la Kim Kardashian, and smoky eyes with my newly acquired babies: Smashbox Blackout (a matte black worth the $16, and the quality and pigmentation is far superior to MAC’s renowned Carbon) and NARS Bali (matte neutral taupe) eyeshadows from Sephora.

Only half an hour until it’s time to sit myself comfortably in front of the vanity and doll up. If only I wasn’t so impatient.

I’ll resurface some time next week. Until then…

bisous,

La C.

the things i’d do to be a chanel girl…

2 June 2010

Chanel has a cult following. And rightfully so.

It’s Chanel. C h a n e l . The one and only fashion house which everyone undoubtedly knows of, and can spot its [easily and illegally reproducible] double C logo. The brain child of Gabrielle Coco Chanel, and now under the reign of Karl Lagerfeld. You can’t quite help but be sucked into the hype and [happily] fettered by the chains of their classic 2.55 quilted handbags and a whiff of the only perfume (need I even say the Chanel No. 5?) a woman should ever wear. Even if you tried resisting the magnetic pull of the Chanel-obssesed cult of the fashion world. You’d fail, miserably, and rather painfully. There is no use in trying to avoid the sequined hot shorts and Jade nail varnish from the Spring/Summer collection of 2009 (I think); believe me. Personal experience never lies.

But seriously. The things I’d do to wander through Coco’s home, to be Betty and Shini, to flip through Karl Lagerfeld’s sketchbook and inspiration notes, to saunter the streets of Paris eating delicate macarons from paper bags carrying a cream-colored 2.55 in the crook of my arm. I’d sip café au lait from the shoppe on the corner below my apartment, leaving lipstick stains from my Rouge Coco, and nibbling on croissants du chocolat whilst flipping through French Vogue. Ah, c’est la vie.

{ image source: g o o g l e s e a r c h i m a g e s }

Anyway. This advert is perhaps one of my favorite Chanel has ever done for its cosmetics line; Vanessa Paradis looks absolutely stunning in this campaign. I’m beyond obsessed with this particular shot – it’s a breath of fresh air: feminine, effortless, sensual, yet effervescent and whimsical at the same time. Amazing, isn’t it, how the one image can capture the very essence of both Chanel and the French woman impeccably so. From the simple updo – sophisticated, chic, and effortless – to the flawless complexion and makeup, au naturel.

I really am infatuated with this advert. I can’t stop admiring it, even as I write this. I want it hanging by my vanity, to inspire and remind me of this innately fabulous and carefree French woman where sensuality is achieved without much effort. I’m quite enamored with the light dusting of a taupe shadow (NARS’ Bali eyeshadow, perhaps?) over the lids paired with mascara – liner would only darken and make heavy the look. And that lipstick. Incroyable. I need it.

Which shade is she wearing? Could it be No. 5 (five is the lucky number, after all), Mademoiselle? Let me know. Even though I’d buy Mademoiselle just for the name (and color, of course)…

bisous,

La C.

metropolitan gala favorites of 2010.

31 May 2010

I rarely ever make it a mission of mine to stalk TFS for the latest red carpet events; even rarer do I make it a point to actually transfer those pretty pap snaps onto the blog. The only exception is for the annual Metropolitan Gala simply because it is the only event where celebrities and models embrace their creative side and do not feel obligated to stay mainstream. Yet even then, I’m fashionably late with my favorites.

Better late than never, though.

I do think the models outshined the celebrities this year; each looked stunning clad in a classic gown with an unconventional twist. It was quite sensual – the fit of the dresses, the variation of nudes and mauves, the effortless hair, the makeup, and the few key accessories. Camilla & Zoe looked immaculate in timeless pieces; the simplicity of such a classic silhouette and color is what made them stand out. And of course, Nicole and Rachel in their bohemian glamorous hippie gowns. F a b u l o u s .

bisous,

La C.

{images’ source: t h e f a s h i o n s p o t }

published in PLASTER magazine, mmmhm.

29 May 2010

So before you forget that La Couturier is a fashion blog that just so happens to document sporadic updates on my oh-so-fabulous life happening maintenant and occasionally include pearls of wisdom/musings/advice from an eighteen year old girl, here I am! And mes chéries, I have not abandoned you; it would be quite rude of me to do so, non?

The past few weeks have been hectic, and it’s slowed down just enough for me to re-organize and re-collect myself. Unfortunately this über-mini break is only temporary, ending with Memorial weekend. Do note, however, that I say hectic in the most positive way; I intentionally [over-]book my calendar because of my need to always be doing something. I’m quite restless – sitting at home with nothing to do is perhaps the worst punishment you could ever inflict upon me. If sleeping was not crucial in maintaining my sanity (and livelihood), I would have forsaken the act completely. Nearly half of our lives are spent snoring in rumpled sheets – half the day has gone to waste! So many things could be done during that time…

But I digress. I’ve been on the go, jet-setting within a twenty-mile radius of my hometown for dance crew practices, a local dance competition, recording session and video shoot for an awards ceremony, dancing, and working on my latest internship assignments. And I kinda sorta love that lifestyle.

My latest gig? Working as the fashion editorial intern for Michael Ardan, creator of a brand-spankin’-new digital magazine, PLASTER. The premier issue just debuted earlier this week; do read it here and subscribe to get future issues (it’s free!). I’m also contributing weekly to the magazine’s blog – I’m inescapable, so it seems. (; It’s all quite different and exciting!

Even more exciting than this new internship (if at all possible) is this: I’ve been PUBLISHED in Plaster Magazine’s debut issue! That means it’s imperative you lovely darlings check it out! “New York State of Mind,” pages 60-73 by yours truly. Words, styling, & collages, reminiscent of my petite novella days. All me, mes chéries. I cannot help but be giddy with excitement; I’ve only been published twice before back in the day when I interned for Dujour Magazine, but wait. Me? My work, my writing, my styling for such a long spread? I didn’t think my first assignment would actually make it to the publication, but it did. Read up, and let me know what you think!

So say hello to their fashion editorial intern! I realize that PLASTER‘s entire aesthetic seems totally un-me style-wise (if you’ve been following La Couturier or know me in real life), but I do love it. I love the edgy, provocative take on life and fashion, and its dedication to being ec0-friendly (Plaster is a completely paperless fashion and lifestyle magazine representing a new era of magazine publishing for the digital age!).

Fashion is fun. Don’t you ever forget that.

bisous,

La C.

pearls of wisdom | wanting what you can’t have

15 May 2010

It’s only human nature to want what we can’t have – you know, something along the lines of that good old adage about “the grass being greener on the other side.” It is the unattainable that seduces us – it provides for us a challenge, a bit of mystery, and injection of interesting in comparison to what we already know and have. The majority of us live what we see as normal. Boring. Monotonous. We pine over the intangible, making ourself sick over material things, places, people that aren’t obtainable. We obsess and dedicate our lives to owning whatever it is we want, and can’t have.

And in that process we forget to appreciate what we do have, and what truly is best for us.

Let’s look at love (or lust) for instance; why is it that centuries of human romanticists have yearned for unrequited love? It’s seductive, it’s tantalizing, it’s interesting. It brings excitement to our otherwise boring lives – what fun is love returned? It’s expected, and so we take that unconditional love for granted.

We must be grateful for what we have, and what is given to us. The birds can fly anywhere on this Earth, and yet they choose to stay in the same place. Is it because they have seen the world when they were young, and have come to appreciate what they were first provided with? Perhaps – perhaps we should follow in their lead, and do the same. Let yourself see the world. Let yourself see, touch, feel, taste, hear the world, and experience every bit of it. Be adventurous and travel the world. Appreciate those who love you, and what is given to you – but that is not to say that you should simply accept that as everything. What you are given is meant to ground you, to give you a source on which you can rely upon. But what you are also given is potential to achieve.

Live with gratitude; whether noted mentally or listed, know what you are thankful for. Remember that, but also remember you only live once.

{ image source: t u m b l r }

Carpe diem, seize the day. You only live once; what have you got to lose?

bisous,

La C.

on starbucks, blueberry muffins, nail varnishes, & other such things.

13 May 2010

{ image source: 5 i n c h & u p – it’s one of my new favorite blogs!}

{Edit: This was written earlier, and published later!} As of May 12, 2010, at precisely 2:30 a.m. EST (the things I do/write/make in the wee hours of the morn…), the items listed above consist of my current essentials to get by the monotonous last few months of high school. Whoever said that happiness can’t be bought is quite mistaken. I am exponentially happier when I’ve had my daily, three cups of caffeinated beverages, and eating Dunkin’s [massive] blueberry muffins and purchasing new nail varnishes never ceases to make me smile.

It’s life’s simplest pleasures, that’s all. I’m quite easy to please so long as I get my complete dosage of caffeine.

{+} Grande chai tea lattés and cinnamon dulce lattés, finished in one sitting at Starbucks, is quite the delicious combination. And since you can’t have coffee without some sort of a sweet carb, blueberry muffins are the perfect pairing with these coffee combinations.

{+} Loving OPI’s “Samoan Sands” and “You Don’t Know Jacques” nail varnishes, and Essie’s “Lilacism,” “Van D’Go,” and “Neo-Whimsical.” Need to try (a.k.a. buy) OPI’s “Mod About You” (quite the bright baby pink) and “Coney Island Cotton Candy” (a peachy nude) for a good, everyday colors. Any suggestions for a substantial baby pink shade?

{+} I bake blueberry muffins at 2:30 in the morning. Before you judge, note that I am making the best of these sporadic bouts of insomnia – not only do I have freshly baked breakfast, but the house smells absolutely delish.

{+} Running low on my signature perfume, and I need a new bottle (or a new scent, or both?). Ah, the little dilemmas in life a girl must face. I also came to the conclusion that I feel naked and incomplete on the rare occasions I leave the house without spritzing myself with an eau de parfum.

{+} I have a job – I’m quite excited that I got it! But I need another; job hunting it is.

{+} This weekend: Missed a recording session, but excited for two days of a video shoot. A 7 am call time = coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee. I totally made my life seem cooler than it is in reality, it’s just some awards ceremony opening/production. Rent inspired, totally 80’s rock, stoner aesthetic, but so, so cool.

{+} Dance dance dance. I wrote a love letter to it here, meaning I must love it so.

{+} Bananas + strawberries + mangos + golden kiwi = the most magnificent and delectable fruit available to mankind. Devour them, like I do.

{+} I love Tumblr.

{+} Now that summer 2010 is approaching, I’ve been wearing my hair au naturel as an ode to days of the beach bumming and evenings of lazy walks, fried oreos in hand. At the same time, however, I’ve been actually wearing (and loving) make up: mascara, liner, blusher, lipstick. It makes me feel quite glamorous whilst stuck in the monotony of high school.

{+} Coffee, blueberry muffins, nail polish, and dance classes account for my expenditures. I really need another job.

Just a few notes on my little things in my life, since you dolls have requested I make personal updates more often. Apparently they’re enjoyable? If you say so…

bisous,

La C.

it’s time to bring out the pretty bras.

11 May 2010

It’s quite controversial, the entire ooh-là-là-darling-I-can-see-your-bra! trend. Is it simply progressive fashion, an avant-garde means of incorporating demure sexiness into everyday wear, and a means of economizing [when air conditioning is much too expensive in the coming summer]? Or is it too much, borderline trampy and more suitable for, er, less respectable professions? Hm.

Take a look at Exhibit A. The stunning Gisele Bündchen, at some ubiquitous airport, making all us other regular folk look (and feel) absolutely crappy whilst waiting in the terminal for our flights (but no fear, I do have a guide for jet-setting fabulously and comfortably!). Now the ensemble in question: is, or is not the visibility of the lingerie too trendy?

I do think she wears semi-transparency rather lovely. Granted, she is Gisele, meaning she has the ability to even the most ridiculous of UFT (unidentified fashion-forward things), but let’s not forget she’s human (’tis true, my dears). The top in question is not only sheer, but also fitted; usually too much sexy in one becomes, erm, trampy. I probably would have opted for a pair of high waisted skinnies, a mini, or, even better yet, trousers rolled at the ankle, to minimize theoh-là-là factor. But the messy hair and touches of grunge – the belt and worn engineer boots – do balance it quite well.

{ image source: t h e f a s h i o n s p o t }

Let’s turn our attention to Exhibit B, showcasing the darling Emma Roberts. I’m a huge fan of her Unfabulous days (go ahead, laugh), and probably not much else. She’s grown up – clearly – and I do applaud her for her balance of sexy and chic. A sheer, v-neck top in a sophisticated taupe does help in elevating the overall look. Now, when tucked into a loose pair of trousers, the end result is mature and elegant, underwhelming the sheer visibility (pun intended) of the lingerie. I quite like it.

Though I do wish she had worn a black bra instead of hot pink. And the ridiculous push-up factor is inducing a reflexive baby barf. Just sayin’.

{ image source: t h e  f a s h i o n s p o t }

Exhibit C. Behold, my favorite take on the trend. She looks elegant, chic, and edgy all at once. Under different circumstances, lace practically screams lingerie, yet somehow it works.Yes, lace is quite suggestive, but when in the silhouette of your average crew-neck tee, it becomes wearable. Tuck the shirt into pants to balance the skin shown, et voilà! We have ourselves the perfect ensemble for an evening out with the ladies: sexy, but hardly over the top. Drinks all around, eh?

{ image source: t u m b l r }

The final verdict on the trend? I’m never too fond of trends, sometimes just because everyone else seems to like it. But I do quite like this particular one, when worn right. It’s time to rummage the drawers to bring out the pretty bras, darlings…

Your thoughts? Yay or nay?

bisous,

La C.

a love letter to dance.

9 May 2010

{ images’ source: d e c o l l a g e }

I miss ballet.

It was everything to me when I used to take classes at a local dance studio, starting from when I was three. I constantly twirled around on my tippy-toes and refused to take off my [white Minnie Mouse] tights and matching tutu, and imagined performing in The NutcrackerSwan Lake, and its equivalents. As soon as I turned nine/ten, my ballet instructor recommended me for beginner pointe – something I’ve only dreamed of, and always thought of being a day so far away. I begged my mom, but she refused. After all, I wasn’t becoming a dancer, so why ruin my feet and knees? I then quit out of spite. Immature, I know, but somewhat excusable I suppose. I mean I was only ten.

I stopped dancing altogether. It would have been the end (and I say this in the least melodramatic way possible), had it not been for a friend who dragged me to try out for my high school’s dance team. Day one of auditions was nervewracking; what were fautees? Illusions? Pitch kicks? I almost got cold feet for Day two of the judged tryouts. Almost. But I hauled my nervous little arse (or my not-so-little derrière) for judgement day.

(The results aren’t exactly relevant, but if you’re curious, I made the JV team, then varsity as a sophomore – and it has since taken over my life during the course of high school. But I suppose if I never auditioned dance may have been nonexistent in my life! The horror…)

My love for dance was re-instilled over those four years – this year, especially. I’m finally taking dance classes again – open hip-hop and break classes – with such amazing people. Dancing makes me happy, no matter what mood I was in previously. It makes me feel alive, and connected with not just myself, but with those around me. It’s a passion, an obsession. A hobby, a way of life. Observing the way a dancer carries himself/herself is beautiful – the confidence, the poise, and the understanding of his/her own body and how it moves. The lines the ballerina or contemporary dancer is breathtaking, as captured in the shots above. The emphasis of beats by the hip hop dancer is, as cheesy as it is to say, in your blood. Boom. Boom. Cack. You begin to think in sounds and rhythm, feeling music into its very depth. The dancer expresses the music’s emotions, and his/her individual feelings. It’s complicated, yet so simple a concept. It is the language of the body, metaphorically speaking in words deeper than the written and spoken, and possesses the ability to feel.

I’ve always had a soft spot for editorials/photography that incorporates fashion and dance, where the clothing only accentuates the dancers’ body, and vice versa. The fabrics wrap around their bodies not to hide (ah, the love handles!), but to reveal the beauty of the body.

Dance, whether or not you’ve taken classes a little girl or not. Dance like no one is watching. It’s a beautiful thing. (Shall I go as far to say it becomes an existential experience?)

bisous,

La C.