My beautiful friend

Three words that suit her best; childish, chaotic, sparkles. How we met I can no longer recall, how long she’s been in my life; forever. We sure do make a strange pair in real life. Her hair is wild, a black mass of thick lush mane, her skin in tanned, ‘toasted’ she likes to call it. Sweet and small and pocket sized, what she lacks in height she makes up for in her big personality. Everywhere we go people stare. Is it because of her sparkly hot pants, her shiny bum bag, her heels she can barely walk in or perhaps the giant pink bow atop her head? Who can say? All I know is that this sassy sister makes life a colourful dreamy anarchistic nightmare. Not that she does this purposely. It’s just that all social norms passed her by while she was busy baking unicorn shit flavoured cupcakes. On holiday she gets me into all kinds of trouble, the kinds a British person fear the most; a line skipper, a stealer of parmesan cheese and other small items at the self-service checkout, a hooligan teenager drinking wine at the back of the bus. All that said she is the friend I couldn’t do without, she’s the one to stay up with all night long, the one that takes you back to your childhood freedom, laughing until your sides split and eating so much sugar until you feel like throwing up. She is the antidote to the modern healthy eating healthy living guilt tripping of modern society and of being the perfect woman. Every word she says and every drama that follows screams, I’ve alive! I am real blood and flesh! I am not for a moment bored! I am present! Just one thing to know if you wish to befriend her; always be sure there’s a coffee house in the area when outside, sister does not fare well without her coffee and cake.


The fatal flower is the perverted shy girl, the one you wouldn’t suspect. Under a soft exterior lies a complex being with an unyielding wildness, anchored to the earth by her humble nature and inexplicable dry humour. She is the femme of now, the modern woman who’s thoughts transcend through cultures and time.

Over the coming months let ‘La Fleur Fatale’ be your guide to the hidden insights and stories of a watchful woman’s eye navigating through the ‘European’ way of life. Struggles and mishaps ensue as life is embraced and the thorny introvert femme clammers for life’s answers. All possible subjects are covered from death to Kim Kardashian and from sisterhood to the perfect strawberry frappe.

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