There he was, across the gallery, observing up close the brush strokes of a Paul Klee painting, the masses swirling around him. The modern European metrosexual - aubergine cords, fitted, dark blue shirt with a subtle diamond pattern, chelsea boots, trimmed beard. I walked on and over and told him that 21 years of grooming tips had paid off.
He chuckled and remarked that 21 years of his fashion advice meant that his lady love proudly wore her new Gore-tex jacket in the midst of the Tate Modern. I laughed loud and hard.
Love in its third decade.
He chuckled and remarked that 21 years of his fashion advice meant that his lady love proudly wore her new Gore-tex jacket in the midst of the Tate Modern. I laughed loud and hard.
Love in its third decade.
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