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Happy friday the company!

"What's going on?!" Yes, those were the words of the Dane when he saw me coming out topless. Well, it's going nothing, I just felt like wearing a lot of cleavage. There are days like that, when I feel like testing things out, when I feel good in my sneakers and in my skin, and I feel like taking responsibility for myself. Here I am outside, on the asphalt, my nose in the air, a little ray of sunshine, I feel it's going to be a good day. People stare at me in the street, I don't know if it's because of the hat or the cleavage, or because I'm laughing at myself... Anyway, I get into the metro and instinctively hide my breasts with my shawl... I keep covering myself up until I get to the office and decide to drop the shawl and walk around as if nothing had happened. I sensed that people were staring, but I didn't pay too much attention. I think I was even amused, but I could sense that something different was going on.
 
 
 
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The day went on and I didn't think too much about it, I had some kind of superpower, I was wearing the neckline like the V of victory, it was quite strange. The power of clothes. And then in the evening, I went to a party and met a woman that nature had copiously spoiled in the cup department and I'm thinking, shit Lisa you can't stop looking at her breasts, it was too beautiful but I was hypnotized. Voilà, voilà. And there I was, with my sissy cleavage, thinking that we were touching a sensitive subject with our eyes. Let me take you back to the beginning of this day, a bit of a crash-test in spite of itself. That morning, when I put on my vertiginous bodysuit, I wore it because I really wanted to. But I was well aware that I didn't live in a self-sufficient bubble, and I was going to meet a lot of people... So I subconsciously (or consciously, I don't know, I don't ask myself as many questions in front of my closet), knew that I was going to expose a glimpse of my anatomy to the world. When I put it on that morning and saw my lover's reaction, I thought "Oh yeah... who cares". It made me happy. Besides, breasts are the oldest and most natural thing in the world, and in summer I'm topless all the time, so I don't ask myself so many questions. It's true that the context is different, but it's still breasts, and everyone has seen them at least once... 
 
 
 
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I went out and covered up that deep V, a question of context no doubt. At the office, I assumed my role because I was confident, and in the evening, I paraded around with my furrowed brow in the wind, to ??? To be seen? I ask myself. Is cleavage not only a feminine stabilo boss, but also an accessory? Like "look at my scandal-red jacket"? And do we need to say anything? Or is keeping quiet a sign of respect? For my part, when I met this woman, I wanted to say "Madame, you have a sublime décolleté", just as I would have said "You have incredible shoes...". Is that inappropriate? But if a man had said it, would he have been branded a pervert? My question is: how can you not look at what you can only see?! What is the custom? Besides, I've been working on this a lot: one day on the blog, I gave a rubbish math lesson on whether to wear a deep décolleté with a beautiful chest or small breasts... Still, I think we can really do what we want with our bodies, and I admire the freedom some people have to assume their full potential - I'd like to be freer too. It's amazing how a few square centimetres of skin that we're not used to seeing can make us want to dare to be a little more feminine! 
 
 
 
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So today I'm wearing a vertiginous bodysuita pants, a cape and hat Urban Outfittersand shoes Sarenza. These photos were taken at the Serres d'Auteuil by the talented Martin de Say Cheers… 

To read this post in English, click here!

September 11, 2015