Last year I saw the Grace Coddington’s book everywhere. I saw on instagram, on blogs, in people’s bathrooms. Everyone was getting it for Christmas. Except me. Santa fucked up.
I was dying to read it. I, like millions of other girls, fell in love with Grace when I watched The September Issue. She was so damn cool with her burning bush hairstyle, and probably the only one in the building with the guts to stand up to the wicked witch Wintour. She was the kind of woman I’d like to be when I grow up. I’d even want her hair.
The book reviews have been so so, and one part reviewers have been hating on is an entire chapter dedicated to her cats and their personalities. But for me, being a crazy ass cat lady, this just makes me want to read it even more.
I haven’t started it yet. I’ve been saving it for the coming long weekend. I mean, fuck going to beach. My plan is to read, drink lots of tea and eat plenty of cookies, snap a few photos, and pet my cats (and boyfriend). Purrfection.
I’ll get back to you with a report when I’m done.
P.S. This awesome piece of photographic art was created by El vikingo and me