I love Dior

Dior and I go way back. I think it was about thirteen years ago that I first applied a lipstick lipstick from the fashion house. Together with a friend, I secretly ‘borrowed’ it from her mother's makeup drawer. I'll never forget that first experience. I had a boyfriend (you know, the kind you have when you're thirteen), but I didn't want to give him a kiss anymore. I mean, HELLO, I had Dior on my lips. And I wasn't going to wipe that off or clean it in the evening. I wasn't CRAZY or anything, DUH. Who knows, if I slept very carefully, I could go three days with my red lips. Of course, that didn't work at all, and the next morning I was both dumped and my entire pillow was covered in red mess. But hey, I was one step closer to my adult self, so it was more than worth it.

Ever since, I have a special bond with Dior. Not just with the lipsticks, mind you, I don't discriminate. My tail still wags quite a bit for the nail polishes (especially Miss Satin 162), mascaras, and lip gloss. In fact: whenever I have a moment, full cosmetic shoots take place in my house. I mean, let's talk about my latest still life. I call her: Untitled.
Ha, if that doesn't sound arty-farty, I don't know what does. Mondrian, eat your heart out!