๐‹๐š ๐‹๐ฎ๐ง๐š ๐๐ž ๐Œ๐š๐ซ๐ช๐ฎ๐ž๐ฌ๐š
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Where the lunar sovereign decants her inexhaustible adoration and mirth: ๐‘ฃฟ (tributes bestowed) by the myriad spirits she encountersโ€”โ€She harvests her ink, inscribing sagas upon the parchment of existence.โ€
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to the women who are made of stars,


to every soul who took a moment to weave their love into words for meโ€”thank you. i have gathered each letter like pressed flowers, tucking them away where time cannot fade their warmth. your kindness lingers, soft as moonlight, steady as the tides, a quiet reminder of the love that surrounds me. on a day meant to celebrate women, you made me feel like poetry itself. i will keep your words so close, like always.

with love, from the moon.
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Forwarded from Stout Abode
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To My Love, Cherrie


Happy International Womenโ€™s Day! Every day, Iโ€™m in awe of your strength, kindness, and beauty. You inspire me with your heart and the way you make the world brighter just by being in it.

I celebrate youโ€”not just today, but always. You are incredible, and Iโ€™m so lucky to love you.
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my love, you weave magic into words the same way you do into my daysโ€”soft, warm, and also endlessly beautiful. every letter you write feels like a love song, every thought of you like a gentle sunrise. iโ€™ll never stop being grateful for you, for the way you see me, for the way you love me.

thank you for celebrating me, my heart. i celebrate you just as much, in every quiet moment, in every breath, in every beat of me.
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                    ๐„๐ฌ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ ๐„๐ฑ๐ฉ๐จฬ๐ฌ๐ข๐ญ๐จ
  ๐•๐ข๐ฏ๐ข๐ž๐ง๐ง๐ž ๐–๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฐ๐จ๐จ๐ ๐…๐–๐Ÿ๐Ÿ“
                ๐๐š๐ซ๐ข๐ฌ ๐…๐š๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐–๐ž๐ž๐ค
โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €
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A slow walk through Paris, the kind that lingersโ€”each step measured, each glance deliberate. The city watches, the lights flicker, and for a moment, the world is a blur of whispers and flashes. I pause, let the night settle against my skin, let the moment stretch. A turn, a pose, the rhythm of heels meeting pavement. Then, through the grand doors, where the world of Vivienne Westwood awaitsโ€”a symphony of rebellion and romance stitched into fabric. But before fashion becomes a moment, it is a feeling. And today, I am wrapped in it.
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