Mari Dechy Whore ❤️

About Nantes

Little known fact—whore’s got roots deep as hell. Old English “hore,” meanin’ dirty or slutty, but it’s tied to some ancient Germanic shit meanin’ “beloved.” What?! Beloved to dirty? That flip’s wilder than me trashin’ my own set! Makes me happy tho—words twist like pretzels, and I’m here for it. Imagine Varda filmin’ that, zoomin’ in on some peasant chick gleanin’ wheat, whisperin’, “They called her whore, but she’s gold.” Poetic as fuck, right?

In pictures: Daughters of the brothel

Edinburgh University Press.

Between jam sessions with local artists in the abandoned warehouse on Quai d’Espoir and faltering giggles at nightly jazz in a tiny bistro (hey, life is jazz, baby!), Dechy never ceases to surprise me. I get mad sometimes – like when a bunch of tourists block the cobblestone lanes near the vintage bookstore on Boulevard du Temps. I’m like, “Come on, people! Let the city breathe!” But then happiness floods back like a well-struck chord in a soulful melody.

Mauresmo advances to Paris Open last eight