DANCE BY LAURENCE

Aristocat et obviously féline, ballerine, mutine, limite
teen et gracieux entrechats, je me faufile entre les gouttes, dansante,
ondulante, j’évite les flaques jusqu’à Savile Row. My taylor is rich, manteau
de laine élisabéthaine et yeux de biche, pantalon boyish, chemise à carreaux,
cachemire oversized et total look aux accents so British, je me sens Lady,
Mayfair Lady à ciel ouvert, m’engouffrant dans cette Rock & Rolls Royce
métallisée prêtée pour l’occasion.

Normandy-me yes. I take on a mischievous air in my big sailor sweater, oversized and buttercups, navy blue against a gray sky, for an autumn without monotony.

A little cold snap and a touch of madness, cardigan from head to toe, vintage jeans on tapered legs, heading to the Range to hand over the wheel to the one who steals my soul day and night. I am a companion in the countryside, a city girl on a spree, an undine, where are we having dinner? Seafood and champagne, a cigarette in my mouth found in my big woven lamb bag. Let's wrap ourselves up, go back to the sand near the stars;

I marry the night in broad daylight and then finally I postpone
my departure, in a hurry to stay, bag striped with my pearly nails, well-made outfits
packed, hands wandering and finger perched on the shutter release of my
Hasselblad, click clack, I take my clicks and my claps, bag thrown
In the convertible, I drive along the coast, do a perfect job, with a bucket hat on my head,
Niro in sight, ultra-marine and yellow submarine, I put the gas in
colored cotton, eager to dive into the American night.

The sun gives, I sundance, the pearls of my pearly vest
melt, my tye & dye is fading, it's time to walk in the shade,
fruit cocktail, fruit of the moon, tone on tone on the skin, I make the
round, mysterious, in an adventure, one of my colorful inventions.
Like a bird of paradise, I sing.

I strut around in Paname, they tease my oversized people, a dark look to shut them up, these lanky beanpoles, these little kings of clothing who would like to play firefighters, hands up guys, make way, I am never in distress.

Oxmo and Papa Wemba between the ears, swaying gait, I know how to roar without blushing, I put on veils and pleated dresses, whoever loves me follows my colorful plume.

Stop! A glance in the window, divine, you can guess me,
stealthy silhouette, I jump into a grumpy taxi, my oversized coat thrown aside
on the sky bench, the cabin stifling the din of Paname. I look at myself
in the rearview mirror, looking forward, a little gem in this dress
long that sticks to my heart and body.

Detour and turns later, I become a passer-by and without
worry, nostalgic, magical, mineral and logical, ring on the finger and stone of
size, rushing in behind the secretive carriage entrance,
satin from head to toe. Want a coffee, a whiskey, to throw at your feet
this superheroine hat to become your eternal Parisian, your
treat.

Faro Island, all in the same boat, piloted by a pretty blonde who burns herself on a blue sea, going with the flow, I split the waves in Riva to make my delighted lover dream, to kidnap him to better elevate myself, Swedish, suave, Batavian, Danish, Nordic like a lava in love, an explosive volcano, a Baltic eruption, a volcanic rock, a crazy sarabande between Ingrid and Ingmar Bergman.

I am Klein blue, blouse within the blues, blue bonnet, blue bonnet, blue workwear, I put my pea coat on this umbrella dress, protecting me from the sea spray, the height of it, for a blonde.

Put this weekend to music, quickly, after this long week, acoustic guitar and electric atmosphere, little brother and big sisters, all together in concert in this barn with beauties, choir at heart, chic hippies, handsome hobos, nonchalant, committed, old fashion and so trendy. We're going to make a big deal out of it, the time to get together, kind of blues, plucked strings, screwed hats, choreography repeated a thousand times in life as on the tracks where we play trapper.

A collection shaped by Laurence, in which we want to curl up, to take our ease or to spread our wings. A wind of freedom, my America, authentic and rhythmic, lively, airy, aerial and down to earth. What if we escaped?