NETFLIX, DRAGONS & JERRY CURL
My mom is an avid reader of Frankie’s. I was on her laptop trying to convert her to Netflix when I saw that my blog was bookmarked. Thanks the Almighty, the boss lady doesn’t speak a lot of English and hopefully missed the thousands odes to red wine (or rosé comes summer) this blog has poured (pun originally non intended, but proudly kept here during the editing process) over the last couple of years.
So sometimes I like to comfort her in the idea that she raised a good girl, the last couple of posts with my Robinson Crusoe’s matchy set (“These trousers need a hem” she’d probably say) and my short shorts (what do you need that much skin out for?) probably had her doubting.
Today’s about making amends, with an outfit that the second I slipped on made me feel like a post Jerry Curl Jacky Kennedy *she smugly hand-waves*
In all seriousness, it always feels nice to channel my inner goodie Freddie. Maybe it’s the grand look and the way it makes my shoulders rock back and forth, but she somehow makes me feel like I’m doing some things right. And trust me, I need to hear it sometimes, this entrepreneurial path is paved with dragons to slay!
Have a good’un you goodie one,