The object(s) of my affection

I bet I am not the only girl in the world to have a wish list of cool, trendy objects that one would die for. Mine, of course, keep on growing, some I had luckily achieved and voila, ladies and gentleman my tiny, little vanities.

Why not a Toulouse Lautrec ion my living room wall, an original, not the ones you buy on gift shops for Tourists in Paris


Why not having my exclusive chef to cook for me and my beau little delices every day.;and please he should do the dishes afterwards


What about play “i don’t care”and after years away from dancing, go knock on Pina’s company and try an audition


….if it doesn’t work, I could be fine with a Guarneri (because i m not a Strad girl anyway) playing “twinkle, twinkle little star on the subway”


What if I could have all the colors on repetto’s urban flats (yeah Kate Moss, I’m coming and my collection will be bigger than yours)


A pair of Loubies, because it should be forbidden in this world not to have a pair of red soles

Louboutin 2

A mini cooper as I want to hunt bad guys just like Charlize did in Italian Job


Prada Baroque sunglasses, just to look cool in my mini


A Birkin bag to hide my gun inside and play an elegant woman to the bad guys I would hunt with my mini


Let’s say I got tired to hunt bad guys and I decided to take a rest in the famous red chair by the Campana’s brothers


An Eli Saab dress, as this guy understands the body of a woman as a sculpture


To set the scene why not a classical Chanel bag and Just un clou by Cartier (yeah yeah this bracelet is giving me nightmares as I know it will disappear and I won’t have the budget to have it :p Hellooo Cartier out there, you should offer one to this blogger here)



Now, let’s say i am all set to take a coffee in a cafe on Rue de Rivoli and while I am there a guy on a motorcycle comes and handle s me a letter saying “board a train to Venice, pick out a man, and make the police believe that this decoy is myself”.. Good, good, good, I’m all set and I pick the guy on the image bellow (who cares about Angelina?)


And to have my happy ending a black Amex so I would be able to afford all that above


….than I wake up with Michael Stipe singing repeatedly the chorus “that was just a dream, a dream..just a dream”


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