November 8, 2011 |
When alone in the office with our resident ginger-topped sugar dumpling Vincent, we used to think the only sound filling the air was the beating of our hearts in unison. However, one day, we ventured downstairs to finally declare our feelings, only to find that it wasn’t his heart that was beating. He was sitting at his desk stomping his new Lanvin boots. Apparently, his heart starts beating the moment he lays his eyes on them, not us.
by Natalie Dembinska
