Nope, I’m not gonna write about the Met Ball. There was so much bling and metal and sparkly fairy dust over everything human, that I was instantly blinded and remained so for some hurting minutes later.
So I decided to take a break from all the brazen craze and turned my attention (very easily; I’m distracted with hardly any effort) to… Writing in my new diary!
Here’s my lil black book (Not literally)- pockmarked, dog-eared and tattered.
It served me for two faithful years with many a page ripped out and many a doodle embroidering its edges. It travelled to the far corners of England with me and is now bursting at the seams with contacts, plans, flags, ticket numbers, thoughts, ideas, memories, reminders and sketches aplenty.
This page for instance, holds a list of names being deliberated with Vick Krish, prior to the baptism of this blog! Presently, the time has come for it to be stashed away safe in a nosey- kids- and- parents- free zone.
Now you’re here, my brand new, dress- form inspired jotter!
I’m sure you would’ve seen yourself in a mirror sometime… No? OK then, I’ll describe you… To you.
Your hard-cover features very charming vintage textile prints by Betty Anderson, an artist of the Big Apple itself, NYC. Your pages of a salmon flush are having their first scribbles, and I think I’m unconsciously in the fear of spoiling your innocent beauty.
Meet my miniature zori bookmark, one of my birthday presents from friends and my favourite from my eclectic yet limited collection of leather, fabric, brass, silver, wood and card bookmarks. I fell more in love with it when I realised what a perfect complement it is to you and I hope you like each other and stay together, watching out for each other forever and ever. (Arite, I got carried away. Just till you run out of pages should do).
Can’t wait to pen more stuff onto you!