Things I love: a statement sleeve, typically by way of a puffed shoulder; vintage sweaters, secondhand from my mother; sitting on the floor. (So much so that I almost didn’t buy a sofa because I knew I would never sit on one, but my dad convinced me otherwise: You don’t know, he’d say. What if you have people over? To this day it exclusively hosts a pair of Chanel cashmere pillows and on occasion, company; rarely me and my derrière.)
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