The fine white blouse I am wearing was sewn by my great grandmother, Ellen, over a hundred years ago. Today Ellen is a phenomenon in my family. Because she was such a decent woman we call it “making an Ellen” every time one of us girls in the family are being too holy (fx by choosing an apple over candy). Therefore wearing her fine blouse for the first time is both cozy and nerve wrecking since I have quite a high spill record when it comes to white clothes.
The Topshop pants still doesn’t make my legs look like Gisele’s for which I am sincerely disappointed.