The beautiful people. They could be considered as phantoms in my mind; partly made up of magazine images, partly made up of girls or women I have admired over time. You remember those girls at school who used to just catch your eye? When I was little, there was a girl named Cheryl; she wore fur-lined boots and had tumbles of blonde curls. Another girl, who had dropped out of the Royal Ballet School to join our suburban school; she had perfect posture and wore penny loafers with real french centimes in them. To me aged seventeen: the epitome of style.
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And as I grow older now I see that this style generally is something born with and not acquired. A fortuitous gift from God that will draw admirers. Much like the pictures on a blog that show loveliness in its purest forms. How lovely it must be to be one of the beautiful people! I am sure there are downsides too...but not many ;-)
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