I'm currently phasing into a state of disgustingly cheesy bliss in my personal life and and therefore right now when the sky is pink, it leaves me charmed with all sorts of things in a way that I might not have been beforehand. Damn these rose-tinted heightened feelings!
I'm enjoying fluttering around in my vintage chiffon pink night cape immensely. I'm feeling like there is not enough white lace garments in the world that can satisfy my love for the stuff. The combination of some ribbons, diamond-cut perspex heels of those Viktor & Rolf shoes is magic. The cut out white petals on this Clare Tough dress is deeply enticing.
I can't seem to find anything to genuinely scathe about which is a tad worrying but if you're after unabashed enthusiasm, then there's pots of it, within this one post alone which probably makes this the cheesiest, gut-wrenchingly, barf-worthy post ever.
However bliss never lasts forever so be patient. Allow me to harp on in a silly manner about fluttering chiffon and white lace here before the edge returns...
