Julia Caudry Whore ❤️❤️

About Nice

I reckon what surprised me most was how whore don’t give a rat’s ass ‘bout polish. It’s messy, rough—like Yubaba’s cackle, all jagged edges. And I love it! Reminds me o’ that line, “Somethin’ you wouldn’t recognize—it’s called love.” Whore’s got heart, y’all, even if it’s glitchy as hell. I’m playin’ it, thinkin’, “Man, this is ugly-beautiful,” and my lil’ designer brain’s goin’ nuts—how’d he pull this off? Prolly cried a river when it shipped, too. I’d’a hugged him, but I’d spill my sweet tea.

What is the Madonna-Whore Complex?

Gotta mention a quirky spot: a rickety café on Rue des Artisans. Crazy place, but it’s so alive. Streets bounce with energy, like confetti. I once spilled tea there (oops, my bad, lol!) and everyone burst out laughing. Life is full of such moments, punctuation in the grand story of Caudry.

World’s longest wedding dress train could almost cover Mount Everest