March 2012
69 posts

Ciao, Belle
Hängde med bästa Cassan igår på hennes jobb, så sjuka tillsammans HAHAHA! FRONT ROW!
Så får jag ett samtal ifrån underbara Karolina Brock, hon är designer, stylist och journalist. som har två projekt just nu som hon ville ha hjälp med så jag och en annan tjej ska med och hjälpa henne. Ska bli så kul, sitter på tåget nu in till stan, är så taggad!!!!
*REEEEWIIIIIIIND!* Jag och Cassan hoppade upp och ner i butiken miljoner gånger (på hennes jobb JA hahahah)
ni får självklart läsa allt när jag kommer hem idag.
Här är Karolinas hemsida: http://karolinabrock.com/
BISOU, CLELLAN

Ciao, Belle

Ciao, Belle

Ciao, Belle

Ciao, Belle







Ciao, Belle

Nytt kop! Turbban fran Beyyan for 60 kronor, ere bra kop lr bra kop? Jag tycker att d e bra kop!
Ciao, Belle

Ciao, Belle
I am Justine Parker and today is going to be different.
I conduct the same process every morning.
Stand in front of the mirror wishing I was someone else.
Brush my teeth twice to get the smell of Vodka out of my mouth.
Cover my arms with foundation to hide all the nasty footsteps heroin has left behind.
Cover my face with mascara to hide the sorrow of the gateway to my eyes, mind and thoughts.
Everything in my life has been about hiding, covering. Hiding from an abusive caretaker, covering the outcome from the abusive caretaker.
I put on my 8-year-old jacket and put the thing that will change my life in my bag then close the door behind me.
As soon as I enter the factory I can hear my boss let out his devilish laughter at one of his staff. It’s a typical white man laugh here in Mississippi. The kind of laugh that breaks your soul down to pieces and make it rotten in despair.
-PARKER! Get your black ass into my office, NOW!
If this was any other day, my feet would feel as heavy as concrete walking behind him but now they are as light as feathers.
He takes a seat by his desk and I’m standing in a perfect angle opposite him.
-Parker, why can’t you ever bring your nigra ass on time huh? Now we only have an hour before my wife comes strolling in the factory…you niggers never learn. Now…
He looks at me with his demonic blue eyes
…take your clothes off.
I’m standing my ground.
-Take your clothes off, come on you should now the process by now.
I’m standing my ground.
-You trying to get stubborn with me nigra? Ha-ha bad choice nigra because
BANG! Right on his left thigh.
BANG! Right arm.
BANG on his family jewels.
He has now fallen of his chair and is lying helplessly on the floor, right where I want to.
He can barely breath and his blue eyes looks sad, just like little Bonnie’s eyes when he pissed on her doll.
BANG! Right between his eyes.
I walk out of the factory with my head held high. Looking back at brown eyes I know that I am safe. No one will know about this incident.
This is Mississippi 1960.
(This my own short story that I transferred from my mind to pen and paper, don’t even think about copy and pasting!)
Ciao, Belle

Idag invigdes min blazer/jacka/kavaj som jag kopte i en mer an cool vintage boutiqe i Paris. Hade pa mig den till skolan idag o fick massa komplimanger…kanske borde ha pa mig den varje dag! Gyyyyyd vad perfekt d skulle vart om en blazer/jacka/kavaj kunde fixa sa att man fick ett battre jobb lr typ 1000000kr….skulle aldrig tvatta blazer/jacka/kavajen da DIRRR
TRES CHIC
Ciao, Belle