Here I happily bounce around the beaux quarters of Paris in my so coveted mustard fixe. The YSL Foundation is located on the very pictured street. Some chic cafés and art galleries luxury-lurk near by. The métro stops at Alma-Marceau. If ever in Chanel-town, make sure to pop in for a glass of bubbly, or two. After a leisurely-sweet-lazy-Sunday-lunch the best galpal and I headed out for some careless Paris stroll about. One of the last ones for me. The city was ours. Late summer dulcet shades. Talking about life. Here and now.
How does anorexia feel… big, fat empty space. A hole where one can fall. Gradually. Not truly realizing. And never get up. Or decide to do so, no matter what. Decide to live again. After all. Take up one’s courage and face the sentiment of feeling your skin thicken. Life returning to reside on me. Why couldn’t I weigh? When everyone else can.
Random thoughts. Very personal. All part of me. Just like my enormous joy for living.
Cache Cache dress, Helsinki vintage scarf, Zara belt, Shania flats
Photos from the 8th district of Paris























