Booth is officially booked for Muscle Fest, so breakfast is a celebration and I'm dressed for exactly one occasion. Yes, that's the only thing I put on. Tell me you noticed.
Booth is officially booked for Muscle Fest, so breakfast is a celebration and I'm dressed for exactly one occasion. Yes, that's the only thing I put on. Tell me you noticed.
Muscle Fest lands in Bucharest at the end of this week and I'm one decision away from booking my brand a booth instead of just a seat. Every sample I own is currently spread across my floor with me sitting in the middle of it. Tell me honestly — would you stop at my table?
Opening night of the contemporary dance festival left my whole body itching to move, so I came home and never made it off the floor. The tights stayed on, everything else got negotiable. Come stretch it out with me?
The mask went on before the dress did — apparently that's the order of operations tonight. Zipper's stuck at half-mast and I keep finding reasons not to finish it. Convince me to close it before the ball?
Found this mask buried in the back of a drawer, and now there's a masquerade ball across town that suddenly feels mandatory. The rest of the outfit is still negotiable. Should the mask stay on all night?
The costume made it all the way home, and exactly one step past the door. The horns, though — those are staying on. Tell me you'd have helped with the zipper.
Fight night left something in my blood — I got up to get dressed and somehow ended up auditing my own conditioning instead. Still buzzing. Come feel the leftover adrenaline with me?
Long day, sore legs, and the tub finally won. Stay a while?
The weekend's costume plan has produced exactly one carved pumpkin and zero decisions. Tell me what you'd dress me as — or should I just go as this?
There's a swing night social across town and the dress is still on its hanger while I'm not. Talk me into putting it on?