The pleasures of this weekend were many, including a very impromptu dinner party by candlelight last night, and my favorite perhaps was watching Gilda in bed this morning (what else would I do?). Then I wanted to be reborn sixty years ago ("Those men are wearing tuxedos, not because it's a formal event, but because it's dark outside") or run away to become a nightclub singer in Montevideo. Except it was Sunday and I preferred to relax and do the next best thing: slip into an ensemble worthy of the mood (vintage tuxedo pants, black sequin top, Roger Vivier pilgrim flats and a black cloak an old beau brought back from an archeological dig in Peru) and float next door for breakfast.... champagne, hen of the woods mushrooms on toast and a side of perfect bacon and sparkling company. All highly recommended.
perfect
Posted by: Lascasartoris | November 28, 2010 at 06:59 PM