Isn't this how we all want to dress? Isn't this exactly the kind of girl we picture in our mind when we stand in front of the wardrobe, head cocked to one side, the base of our foot resting against the side of one calf as we contemplate the sad-looking threads that hang up on wooden coathangers? Isn't that exactly the kind of blue shirt - definitely 'borrowed from the boyfriend', big enough to flare out at the back, with pockets to hang sunglasses from and drop your phone in and starch-crisp cuffs - that we search for through an endless ream of stores? Isn't that exactly the kind of anklet - gold and glam and all of that good stuff - that we dream of slipping around our feet every day for a touch of modern insouciance? Aren't those exactly the kind of red ballet flats that you seem to spend the whole of your life looking for, round-toed but not too round-toed, flat but with the perfect amount of arch, with a high back and a low side-cut and oh, don't even get me started on that lipstick hue?
If I lived in New York I would dress just like this.
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