Jornal French!louis

Por: ~

He’d arrived in Paris at the fresh age of nineteen and back then, the Louvre was his Mecca, a shiny glass lid that contained everything that mattered to him: Fashion Week. He’d only gone to two shows and had to sit way in the back, but that didn’t matter. Actually, it was probably for the best that he was hidden at the back, because Balmain had actually made him cry – 2002 had a lot of shiny blacks and daring textures that looked so good they were like a visual massage. That’s what fashion was to Louis: something so perfectly beautiful that it actually hurt. Nothing else ever made him feel that way.

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