This is one of the most beautiful picture i've seen in a long while...
from the photog genius of thesartorialist.com, Scott Schuman...
if a picture speaks a thousand words...
then this photo screams out a novel...
in my chick-lit novel...
it will go something like this...
She is awoken by the sound of metal grills colliding with each other. Like clockwork the bakery below opens its doors for the first signs of customers in the morning. She looks across the room to find any evidence of what transpired the night before, she finds none. Bjorn counts the seconds down till the smell of freshly baked baguette fills her room, giving her that motivation she needs each morning.
Marie-Claire does not wake up, because she does not sleep. She is often quoted: “Sleep is a luxury bestowed to only the lazy and the damned.” Like clockwork, her blackberry goes off, interrupting her deep mood of meditation, her breath quickens as she counts the second down till her assistants, stylist, make-up artists and nutritionist burst through her boudoir, giving her that motivation she needs each morning.
Bjorn stands in front of her treasure cove, her wardrobe. Filled with treasures from all over the world, couture casts offs, thrift store finds period pieces and H&M basics coexists in a beautiful world she calls her studio apartment. Rummaging through her wardrobe, she spots a cherry red overcoat with black lapels adorned by onyx buttons peaking in between her Mr. and Miss tees collection and Alexander McQueen sample gowns. She holds up her find as her imagination runs wild. “London, spring of 1998” she whispers, diving into her wardrobe to hold on to the images in her head.
“If they want me to wear something from their house, they’d better sent it in earlier, I could always wear the Dell'Acqua just to piss the French off.” Her petite size 0 body dominates the room filled with fidgety staff knowing in a few moments, someone would be left without a job. You weren’t just dressing Marie-Claire, you were dressing the most powerful woman in the fashion stratosphere. She stares down at her reflection, adjusting her silk wrap night gown and clinching it with a dolce metal bustier belt. She gesture to her staff for a matching black satin Givenchy trench coat while slipping into her patented leather Louboutin knee high boots. Just like that, women from all over the world will want to wear their nightgowns out by the time she is photographed.
Bjorn the young American picking up the pieces of her lost past, Marie-Claire the empress dowager of fashion whose past she swore she would never reveal. Two women from very different worlds, little do they know that their paths would one day cross and change each others' lives… forever.
Marie-Claire does not wake up, because she does not sleep. She is often quoted: “Sleep is a luxury bestowed to only the lazy and the damned.” Like clockwork, her blackberry goes off, interrupting her deep mood of meditation, her breath quickens as she counts the second down till her assistants, stylist, make-up artists and nutritionist burst through her boudoir, giving her that motivation she needs each morning.
Bjorn stands in front of her treasure cove, her wardrobe. Filled with treasures from all over the world, couture casts offs, thrift store finds period pieces and H&M basics coexists in a beautiful world she calls her studio apartment. Rummaging through her wardrobe, she spots a cherry red overcoat with black lapels adorned by onyx buttons peaking in between her Mr. and Miss tees collection and Alexander McQueen sample gowns. She holds up her find as her imagination runs wild. “London, spring of 1998” she whispers, diving into her wardrobe to hold on to the images in her head.
“If they want me to wear something from their house, they’d better sent it in earlier, I could always wear the Dell'Acqua just to piss the French off.” Her petite size 0 body dominates the room filled with fidgety staff knowing in a few moments, someone would be left without a job. You weren’t just dressing Marie-Claire, you were dressing the most powerful woman in the fashion stratosphere. She stares down at her reflection, adjusting her silk wrap night gown and clinching it with a dolce metal bustier belt. She gesture to her staff for a matching black satin Givenchy trench coat while slipping into her patented leather Louboutin knee high boots. Just like that, women from all over the world will want to wear their nightgowns out by the time she is photographed.
Bjorn the young American picking up the pieces of her lost past, Marie-Claire the empress dowager of fashion whose past she swore she would never reveal. Two women from very different worlds, little do they know that their paths would one day cross and change each others' lives… forever.
i'm too lazy to continue...
i think when i'm old, fat and alone...
i'll get the motivation i need to finish the whole damn story...
i hope you've fallen in love with the photo like i have...
No comments:
Post a Comment