Despite the fact that fashion and I are not the best of friends (more like passing acquaintances, really), I faithfully view every one of The Sartorialist's posts. I can't help it. This image stayed with me all day today as I tromped through the slush downtown in my bright red wellies.
How is it that some women manage to look both disheveled and fantastic at the same time? Is it a gene I lack? When I am disheveled, I look disheveled. Deranged. Possibly homeless. I may not be French, but as a direct descendant of a Huguenot immigrè, I feel I have a right to this gene. Yes.
That is all I have to say on the matter.