“Nearly forty years later, Audrey Hepburn’s face was that of someone who’d squinted into the sun, laughed a few laughs, shed a few tears. The forehead showed some wrinkles, the eyes showed some more, and the strong jawline was softening around the edges. As unwilling to fake youth as she had been to fake voluptuosness, she looked like the 63-year-old woman she was. Which is to say, better than any 63-year-old woman who’s pretending that she isn’t. Would that she were going to be around longer, to teach us all how to grow old.” [excerpt from an editorial regarding Audrey’s death published in The New York Times]
Everything I do is unfabulous. I’m the most normal person. I love walking everywhere and going to hole-in-the-wall places, like nail shops, because they do the best job. And I go to vintage stores rather than high-end boutiques, because I like to dress different from other people.