Fashion Is Art That You Live In
http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/group.show?id=128101
http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/group.show?id=128101
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"In the city of blinding lights"
Paris, France: "Paris is always a good idea" - Audrey Hepburn
Berkshire Académie de Paris: "Secrets travel fast in Paris" - Napoleon Bonaparte.
Berkshire Académie has been Paris's most esteemed private school for young ladies since it was founded in 1908 by Sylvia Berkshire, a french heiress. Sylvia Berkshire wanted to form an institute that would act as a haven for young women to learn proper etiquette and to embrace their independence. In order to ensure their full success, the Silver Swans Society was created to bring the girls together and provide a taste of exclusivity within the school. 100 plus years later, the campus at Berkshire still stands beautifully, and the Silver Swans Society is stronger and possibly more exclusive than ever before. With a new batch of possible Swans moving onto campus, the competition to succeed in Berkshire society can practically be felt in the Parisian air.
Silver Swans Society: "I've developed into quite a swan. I'm one of those people that will probably look better and better as I get older - until I drop dead of beauty" -Rufus Wainwright
Swans System: As you may have guessed the Swans are not just any girls, they each have proven themselves worthy socially with style, grace and class. The prestigious title of a Swan does not come easily. It is hard work to become a member of the highest ranked society of young ladies in all of Paris. You will be judged on how you look, what you do and who you are. It’s not first come first serve; you earn it. You will get scores and points that add up to your ranking amongst all the female students at Berkshire.
http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/group.show?id=128101
http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/group.show?id=128101
"In the city of blinding lights"
Paris, France: "Paris is always a good idea" - Audrey Hepburn
Berkshire Académie de Paris: "Secrets travel fast in Paris" - Napoleon Bonaparte.
Berkshire Académie has been Paris's most esteemed private school for young ladies since it was founded in 1908 by Sylvia Berkshire, a french heiress. Sylvia Berkshire wanted to form an institute that would act as a haven for young women to learn proper etiquette and to embrace their independence. In order to ensure their full success, the Silver Swans Society was created to bring the girls together and provide a taste of exclusivity within the school. 100 plus years later, the campus at Berkshire still stands beautifully, and the Silver Swans Society is stronger and possibly more exclusive than ever before. With a new batch of possible Swans moving onto campus, the competition to succeed in Berkshire society can practically be felt in the Parisian air.
Silver Swans Society: "I've developed into quite a swan. I'm one of those people that will probably look better and better as I get older - until I drop dead of beauty" -Rufus Wainwright
Swans System: As you may have guessed the Swans are not just any girls, they each have proven themselves worthy socially with style, grace and class. The prestigious title of a Swan does not come easily. It is hard work to become a member of the highest ranked society of young ladies in all of Paris. You will be judged on how you look, what you do and who you are. It’s not first come first serve; you earn it. You will get scores and points that add up to your ranking amongst all the female students at Berkshire.
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Milky grey light poured through the cracks in my shutters and stretched across my all white room. I slowly sat up. Something pointy stabbed me in the side. I was still wearing my sequin mini dress. I would never go to bed in a cocktail dress. What on earth did I do last night? I fought through my morning fogginess attempting to recall last night. I couldn’t remember hardly anything at all. Oh god, how much did I drink?
I heard a noise to my left. My heart stopped. I heard breathing. I slowly turned to look at where the sound had come from. In the other room on my white sofa lay a boy. He was stretched out and far too big for the Victorian lacer frame. One arm was draped over the top of his head and one leg dangled off the sofa. His shoes were neatly placed on the floor. His white shirt was unbuttoned and his skinny tie was loosened to his chest. He couldn’t be more adorable. And I really couldn’t be doing this. It was Jerrod for crying out loud. I’ve heard all the stories of girls falling hard, then once they think they have him he’s done. He was a distraction. I wasn’t going to let a boy screw with my feeling, but I was always up for a challenge, and two can play at this game.
So, I tip-toed out of my fluffy bed and across the floor. Once in my walk in closet I quickly got dressed and crept into the bathroom. I then dumped the contents of my clutch into my tote and silently closed the door behind me.
If he wanted a chase that’s all he would get.
(Makes more sense if you read the one before)
Milky grey light poured through the cracks in my shutters and stretched across my all white room. I slowly sat up. Something pointy stabbed me in the side. I was still wearing my sequin mini dress. I would never go to bed in a cocktail dress. What on earth did I do last night? I fought through my morning fogginess attempting to recall last night. I couldn’t remember hardly anything at all. Oh god, how much did I drink?
I heard a noise to my left. My heart stopped. I heard breathing. I slowly turned to look at where the sound had come from. In the other room on my white sofa lay a boy. He was stretched out and far too big for the Victorian lacer frame. One arm was draped over the top of his head and one leg dangled off the sofa. His shoes were neatly placed on the floor. His white shirt was unbuttoned and his skinny tie was loosened to his chest. He couldn’t be more adorable. And I really couldn’t be doing this. It was Jerrod for crying out loud. I’ve heard all the stories of girls falling hard, then once they think they have him he’s done. He was a distraction. I wasn’t going to let a boy screw with my feeling, but I was always up for a challenge, and two can play at this game.
So, I tip-toed out of my fluffy bed and across the floor. Once in my walk in closet I quickly got dressed and crept into the bathroom. I then dumped the contents of my clutch into my tote and silently closed the door behind me.
If he wanted a chase that’s all he would get.
(Makes more sense if you read the one before)
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I stepped out to the seemingly uneven sidewalk. The charity gala was unbelievable, the food, the music, the stunning decorations, it was the best yet. The bright colors of the city seemed to bleed together. “Oh, Paris” I said. The lights appeared to dance around me. I was walking forward but I found myself tilted and leaning on something hard, must be a wall.
“This is so unlike her,” I heard a familiar voice next to me say. I turned to look where it came from. Pippa held a tanned graceful arm in the air to hail a taxi. I formed my face into a scowl.
“When did her accent get so thick?” The hard wall laughed next to me, I tuned quickly to my right to find the wall actually was not a wall. It was Jerrod.
“Yeah, that happens when she’s drunk,” Pippa said opening the yellow door.
“Excusez moi! I am most definitely not drunk. I’m Charlie Benoît! I don’t get drunk.” The laughing continued and I became even more irritated. Was this some sort of joke? I felt my words were harder to form. “You know what? I don’t need to listen to this. I’m going home!”
“Damn straight you are.” They laughed again. I frowned even more. Crossing my arms over my sequin clad chest.
“I have to go talk to the caterers before they leave, do you mind making sure she gets home?” Pippa asked the extremely attractive brick wall.
“Sure, but I don’t know how much help I am, I’m not so sober myself” He replied. She shrugged and handed him my bag. My original Chanel, my 57 year old bag that had belonged to my grandmother. How the hell did she get it.
“Hey, that’s my vintage Chanel!” I shouted as I felt myself be helped into the taxi. More laughter, I hated not being in on the joke. The taxi cab pulled away from the curb and the lights began to become a blur out the window. I felt a little dizzy. I looked to my right and found Jerrod’s big eyes watching me. Oh my Louis, he was hot. I leaned in. He smelled like Armani and scotch. The next thing I know I was full on macking with the brick wall. We pulled up to the Swan Estate. It looked sad and alone with all the lights off. My heart fell a little.
“Whats wrong?” He asked. I realized my eyes had become moist. There was no way I was going to actually cry. I don’t cry.
“No one’s home.” I chocked, turning away from him. No one has ever seen me cry.
“Well isn’t it just you Pippa and Marie?” He answered matter-of-factly. I swallowed hard, fumbling for the handle. I stumbled onto the gravel drive way. I didn’t want to listen to this anymore.
“Wait your bag!” He hopped out behind me. I tuned, ripping the gold and leather chain out of his hands big hands. He tossed the driver some Euros but that stupid, hot, chiseled brick wall followed after me up the steps to the front door.
“What did I say?” He asked, standing next to me as I tried to unlock the huge brass lock. I didn’t respond. I kept fiddling with the dumb lock, it kept moving around. He put a large hand over mine and turned the key, and then he slowly opened the door for me. I avoided his eyes as I marched, well attempted to march into the house.
“Charlie,” He said softly, but it echoed through the empty house. “Look, you’re not alone.” He moved a fallen curl out of my face. I was so vulnerable it was sickening, so helpless and weak. He pulled me into his arms and held me, and I let him.
I stepped out to the seemingly uneven sidewalk. The charity gala was unbelievable, the food, the music, the stunning decorations, it was the best yet. The bright colors of the city seemed to bleed together. “Oh, Paris” I said. The lights appeared to dance around me. I was walking forward but I found myself tilted and leaning on something hard, must be a wall.
“This is so unlike her,” I heard a familiar voice next to me say. I turned to look where it came from. Pippa held a tanned graceful arm in the air to hail a taxi. I formed my face into a scowl.
“When did her accent get so thick?” The hard wall laughed next to me, I tuned quickly to my right to find the wall actually was not a wall. It was Jerrod.
“Yeah, that happens when she’s drunk,” Pippa said opening the yellow door.
“Excusez moi! I am most definitely not drunk. I’m Charlie Benoît! I don’t get drunk.” The laughing continued and I became even more irritated. Was this some sort of joke? I felt my words were harder to form. “You know what? I don’t need to listen to this. I’m going home!”
“Damn straight you are.” They laughed again. I frowned even more. Crossing my arms over my sequin clad chest.
“I have to go talk to the caterers before they leave, do you mind making sure she gets home?” Pippa asked the extremely attractive brick wall.
“Sure, but I don’t know how much help I am, I’m not so sober myself” He replied. She shrugged and handed him my bag. My original Chanel, my 57 year old bag that had belonged to my grandmother. How the hell did she get it.
“Hey, that’s my vintage Chanel!” I shouted as I felt myself be helped into the taxi. More laughter, I hated not being in on the joke. The taxi cab pulled away from the curb and the lights began to become a blur out the window. I felt a little dizzy. I looked to my right and found Jerrod’s big eyes watching me. Oh my Louis, he was hot. I leaned in. He smelled like Armani and scotch. The next thing I know I was full on macking with the brick wall. We pulled up to the Swan Estate. It looked sad and alone with all the lights off. My heart fell a little.
“Whats wrong?” He asked. I realized my eyes had become moist. There was no way I was going to actually cry. I don’t cry.
“No one’s home.” I chocked, turning away from him. No one has ever seen me cry.
“Well isn’t it just you Pippa and Marie?” He answered matter-of-factly. I swallowed hard, fumbling for the handle. I stumbled onto the gravel drive way. I didn’t want to listen to this anymore.
“Wait your bag!” He hopped out behind me. I tuned, ripping the gold and leather chain out of his hands big hands. He tossed the driver some Euros but that stupid, hot, chiseled brick wall followed after me up the steps to the front door.
“What did I say?” He asked, standing next to me as I tried to unlock the huge brass lock. I didn’t respond. I kept fiddling with the dumb lock, it kept moving around. He put a large hand over mine and turned the key, and then he slowly opened the door for me. I avoided his eyes as I marched, well attempted to march into the house.
“Charlie,” He said softly, but it echoed through the empty house. “Look, you’re not alone.” He moved a fallen curl out of my face. I was so vulnerable it was sickening, so helpless and weak. He pulled me into his arms and held me, and I let him.
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I tried to catch her breath. My chest rose and fell under the soft pure white sheets. What on earth was I doing? Oh that’s right, Jerrod. I looked over and saw him shimmy his bare butt back into his Armani boxers.
Oh god, if anyone finds out. There’s no way. This will never be kept a secret, it’s far too juicy. Not to mention it could very well ruin my reputation. It will be on Berkshire gossip before I even get home. How did I let this happen? I was sober for gosh sake. I grabbed my forehead with my thumb and index finger and began massaging my temples. I was screwed, in more ways than one.
I looked over at him; the obvious concern was a mutual feeling. He ran his abnormally large hand through his shaggy brown hair. Why did he have to be adorable? It makes everything so much harder. “Look,” he said sitting down on the edge of the bed. He was looking down at his shirt buttoning the little white buttons. “I like this, don’t get me wrong, I’m cool with us having a thing, I mean you’re really hot,” he stumbled with his words, “it’s just, I don’t want this to be, like, public.”
I sighed in relief, and then smiled. “I could not agree more.” I hopped up grabbing my various clothes items that had been tossed around his apartment. I began to reassemble myself.
“Really?” I looked back at him, he wasn’t looking at his buttons he was looking genuinely confused.
“Yeah?” I answered, stepping into my pleated chiffon skirt.
“Okay then,” he said with a ‘that was easy’ tone.
I grabbed my phone from off the night stand as it threatened to vibrate off the edge. It wanted to remind me that I was going to be late for the charity benefit in two hours. “I’ll see you around,” I said pulling my sweater down over my body.
“Okay then,” he said again, this time he finished it by kissing me. I was taken aback; I was not expecting that. I slid into my heels and closed the door behind me, showing as little emotion as possible. I had more important things to worry about that this confusing new ‘thing’. I had to get out of here before I was recognized.
I tried to catch her breath. My chest rose and fell under the soft pure white sheets. What on earth was I doing? Oh that’s right, Jerrod. I looked over and saw him shimmy his bare butt back into his Armani boxers.
Oh god, if anyone finds out. There’s no way. This will never be kept a secret, it’s far too juicy. Not to mention it could very well ruin my reputation. It will be on Berkshire gossip before I even get home. How did I let this happen? I was sober for gosh sake. I grabbed my forehead with my thumb and index finger and began massaging my temples. I was screwed, in more ways than one.
I looked over at him; the obvious concern was a mutual feeling. He ran his abnormally large hand through his shaggy brown hair. Why did he have to be adorable? It makes everything so much harder. “Look,” he said sitting down on the edge of the bed. He was looking down at his shirt buttoning the little white buttons. “I like this, don’t get me wrong, I’m cool with us having a thing, I mean you’re really hot,” he stumbled with his words, “it’s just, I don’t want this to be, like, public.”
I sighed in relief, and then smiled. “I could not agree more.” I hopped up grabbing my various clothes items that had been tossed around his apartment. I began to reassemble myself.
“Really?” I looked back at him, he wasn’t looking at his buttons he was looking genuinely confused.
“Yeah?” I answered, stepping into my pleated chiffon skirt.
“Okay then,” he said with a ‘that was easy’ tone.
I grabbed my phone from off the night stand as it threatened to vibrate off the edge. It wanted to remind me that I was going to be late for the charity benefit in two hours. “I’ll see you around,” I said pulling my sweater down over my body.
“Okay then,” he said again, this time he finished it by kissing me. I was taken aback; I was not expecting that. I slid into my heels and closed the door behind me, showing as little emotion as possible. I had more important things to worry about that this confusing new ‘thing’. I had to get out of here before I was recognized.
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I grabbed my new white Reed out of the bed of tissue paper that it laid in. I tossed in my wallet and things; hooking my arm through its pristine straps. I fastened my Kors watch before realizing what time it was. My heels clicked across the white marble as I made my way down the hall of the left wing in the Swan Estate. It sounded right, the old walls knew little else than the sound of stilettos. It echoed through the high ceilings as they had ever since my grandmother had lived here. I made my way down the staircase and into the grand hall. It felt eerie, much too quiet. The house felt empty, it wasn’t filled with the typical laughter and gossip, and there was no faint hum of hair dryers or the sound of the blender used by the chef to make morning smoothies. The census was at an all time low. Something needed to be done.
I glanced at myself in the large floor length mirror, tweaking my sweater so it lay just right. I grabbed a nars lipstick out of the white seashell that was placed on the mirrored tray on the center of the buffet. I applied a coat before tossing it into my bag. I grabbed the handle of the large front door, heaving it open. I made my way across the gravel driveway to the town car that was waiting to take me to class.
I grabbed my new white Reed out of the bed of tissue paper that it laid in. I tossed in my wallet and things; hooking my arm through its pristine straps. I fastened my Kors watch before realizing what time it was. My heels clicked across the white marble as I made my way down the hall of the left wing in the Swan Estate. It sounded right, the old walls knew little else than the sound of stilettos. It echoed through the high ceilings as they had ever since my grandmother had lived here. I made my way down the staircase and into the grand hall. It felt eerie, much too quiet. The house felt empty, it wasn’t filled with the typical laughter and gossip, and there was no faint hum of hair dryers or the sound of the blender used by the chef to make morning smoothies. The census was at an all time low. Something needed to be done.
I glanced at myself in the large floor length mirror, tweaking my sweater so it lay just right. I grabbed a nars lipstick out of the white seashell that was placed on the mirrored tray on the center of the buffet. I applied a coat before tossing it into my bag. I grabbed the handle of the large front door, heaving it open. I made my way across the gravel driveway to the town car that was waiting to take me to class.
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