I had never tried St. Germain, the French elderflower-based liqueur, before the Jazz Era Lawn Party. But the cocktails and sangria, served by the dapper staff as the…
Death was imminent. I was sure of it. It was so humid that the word “air” could be used only sparingly. And it was so hot that there may as well have been an onion on my head and a tomato in my mouth: I was being roasted alive. The thermometer pegged the temperature at 72oC (162oF).
I’ve loved the art of fashion for a long time. I don’t know exactly when or how it started, but it certainly swung into high gear with my first trip to Paris. Like after a lifetime of listening to baseball on the radio, then finally going to a game at a major league ballpark, it was a whole new world.
2 Comments
I like the idea!!!
Thanks! It was fun to experiment with the scene. There are lots more I’m working on from that time.