What is it about French women that makes them so timelessly alluring? So elegant and sophisticated in the chicest understated fashion; there is no notion of the gauche, the tacky, the bleached blonde bouffantry and obnoxious orange melanoma that has come to consume North American standards of beauty. The French are sexy in the subtlest of customs, casually puffing on a cigarette with unfussy hair hanging in loose tendrils around their shoulders, or pulled back into a lazy chignon. The simplicity allows for more insinuating qualities to shine through, preserving a more unconventional type of loveliness. Their noses may at times be too prominent, their facial characteristics not perfectly symmetrical, but they understand the value of highlighting the features they do possess, instead of attempting to fool everyone with garish impersonations of what they do not. The wideness of a bright eye, the delicate bow of an upper lip, the contour of an incisive cheekbone. Plus, as is common knowledge, they are always of the lithest frame, despite existing on a diet of wine and brie and baguette. It is for this reason that we will be forever thankful for the small amount of French blood running through our veins, even though we’re sure our grandmother would find our lack of fluency in the language positively appalling. At least we know how to look fab in head-to-toe noir?

Therefore, behold our latest fille crush: Clémence Poésy, as inspired by our second viewing of In Bruges (if you haven’t seen, you must…we insist).

To end, we must excuse ourselves to get ready for this year’s Power Ball… pure (borrowed) sequin gorgeousness ce soir. Promise to posty pics! xoxo