Last week I had a ten-year relationship with the man in question. TEN YEARS. That’s 120 months, 522 weeks, 3,652 days, 87,600 hours, 5,258,880 minutes, and 315,567,360 seconds. How do you endure it, you want to know? No idea, but one thing I do know: it has everything to do with love in the air.

Anyway, ten years of dating calls for an extra sweet gift. But this gift, I don’t even dare to dream of. Or well, I have indeed dreamed about it, maybe even twice, but just as a thought, okay? An orange bag came walking my way. A LOUIS VUITTON ORANGE BAG. Am I dreaming about it for the third time now? No, this is for real. I got THE POCHETTE METIS from him (and okay, I’ll stop typing in all caps now, but the enthusiasm is huge, you understand). My hit bag, which is sold out worldwide and with a bit of luck can still be scored second-hand: HE HAS IT. A real one, not even a month old. I couldn’t care less about those capitals, days, or seconds. Luckily, there’s love in the air.