Mon Dieu! Whatever shall become of a girl so terribly fond of being pretty? A flutter of lashes, a coquettish little smile and a fondness for stealing glances at her own portrait. Forgive the theatrics, darling; some things are simply too lovely to be modest about.
A hopeless admirer of pretty things, sweet nothings and all the charming little absurdities of life. Pray, do not mistake my fondness for frivolity, for I simply find the world far too lovely to be observed without a little affection.
𝓘 fancy myself a creature of another century, collecting pretty sentiments like pressed flowers betwixt the pages of a well-loved novel. Pray, pardon my little vanities; a woman ought to be her own favourite work of art. 𑁍
📞 ⋮ 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 ... it’s your favourite trouble calling. better pick up, lest you miss the chance of a lifetime; surely, you wouldn’t let an opportunity this divine slip right through your pretty little fingers?