So I’d be Julianne Moore, except for the hair, the body and the face. I’d wear that bewitching black and white dress and I would play the fierce and confident woman.
No, no, wait . I can do better. I’d be Julian Moore except for the hair, the body and the face. I’d be wearing that censurable dress and the blinking of my eyelids would make the earth turn backward.
No, no wait. Even better . I’d be Julian Moore. Except for the hair, the body and the face. I’d walk like a feline in that sinful sheath, and I’d be accursed poet Charles Baudelaire’s muse.
No, no, no wait. Beaudelaire is still in the picture. I’d be Julianne Moore. Naked.
Today, some kind of bloke told me ” your new hairdo looks like Janet Frame ’s character in – “an angel at my table-”. Well, I took it as a compliment. Everything linked to Janet Frame is cool. I may even dye my mane red. Someday.
I may just wear a black dress, vertiginous V neck. I already have the hairdo. And I will say to whoever wants to hear : ” Who is afraid of Virginia Woolf, George ? I’am”.
I’ll keep it simple and focus like Faye Dunaway in the Thomas Crown affair, with white pants and beige sweater. Or maybe I’ll just wear that “are you sure you want to interrupt my coffee break” attitude .
Then, one of those very useless remarks came to my mind, between the cheese and the desert : “if someone wore a dress inspired from Tippi Hedren yellow outfit, would she be looked at as if she was Honey ?”. I’ll check.
Challenge 1 : Get a all pink, head to toe, outfit. Legally blonde inspired.
Challenge 2 : build enough self-confidence to believe that people will still listen to my speeches as I ‘ll be standing there, before them, dressed like a candy store.