Growing up I was obsessed with magazines: their unmarred spines held the promise of a better life, and leafing through their glossy pages meant breathing in the aroma of a fresh start. Meanwhile, the contents inside mirrored the chaotic bedlam of a deeply mentally ill human brain: personality tests, sex tips, avocado hair masks, 10 ways to style a wraparound dress, DIY juice fasts, and endless things to buy. How adult! I loved gazing at the overflowing racks at Barnes and Noble, full of razor sharp pages set to expire before they were even acknowledged. That sort of built-in obsolescent felt excessively chic, as did their physicality; cold, substantial, slippery.
I've been thinking about buying that Serge Lutens scent since I saw your very flattering Instagram story recommendation. The longevity description had me hooked!
i’m starting a magazine right now just to read this description on those glossy pages
I've been thinking about buying that Serge Lutens scent since I saw your very flattering Instagram story recommendation. The longevity description had me hooked!