Like a grey wall or black & white stripes, or disastous hair pulled up in a highschool hairclip, or no makeup but a tan. Mules you can actually walk in. A good book in your bag. No bra. A co-ord that looks like a dress. Dior you didn’t pay for yourself. 7 am sunshine that doesn’t make you sweat. Life is a feeling a little complicated, as if I tripped over the puzzle and scattered a few pieces on the floor and under the sofa. I’d pick them all up but it’s too hot and I’m continually exhausted. I wake up at dawn and go to bed the next day. So excuse me, while I cherish the simplicity that arrives unexpedectly amongst the chaos that seems to be hanging around these days. And you know what? You don’t always need to wear a bra. Being a woman is complex enough, forego the underwire every once in a while. But you should always carry a good book in your bag. Always. Right now, I’m reading this one. And it is a little saviour in that simple way words can be. Words, how simple they are. I think I love them more than clothes. They are infinitely better without a bra.