I will admit that slightly smaller scale floral adornments are much more to my usual liking – any petal situation larger than a handspan usually sends me spinning back to the 80s, but this dress was easily my most worn throughout this European Summer.
But let’s talk about sleepy Nice – which is just so. Languid, sweaty, slow-laughing, sea-breezy Nice, where all the Parisians seem to be moving for a permanent tan and a career change. There isn’t a whole lot happening here, commerce and industry wise, but for some people (and I think, sometimes myself included), that’s what you need. A removal to an timewarp of the late 80s and 90s, viewed in technicolour and randomly iconic film-culture drop-pins, with fantastic gelati, though you wouldn’t expect it, terrifyingly fresh produce, and sweet little balconies that have me giggling all over the joint comme ça.