The cold asphalt. Dark grey cement. The absence of sun.
The golden hour turning the asphalt into a warmer one.
You’re naturally invited to lay down. To rest your soul. In a sea of people, the cold asphalt is now the warmest place. That’s the essence of this dress, the light of golden hour softening everything encapsulated in a statement piece.
In this dress you’ll never feel the real cold. Of the people, of the air. It will hold and gently hug you. You won’t necessarily turn heads, but you’ll mesmerise. Your presence will light up places and rooms. You’ll fill empty spaces. Once you leave the energies won’t be the same. You’ll be stuck on their retina.