Léna Verselle

A peek inside my wardrobe…

Brown bandeau, a matcha café break

I settle into this cream-walled café with an iced matcha and no interest in checking the time. My grey linen trousers are already creased, the wood feels warm beneath my bare feet, and my brown bandeau catches the sun. I stir the ice to make the break last longer. He asks if we should go; I order a biscuit.

Lena sits in a brown bandeau, grey trousers and black glasses, mouth open and matcha cup raised, against the cream café wall. — I toast to breaks that take over the day.

Lena sits on a wooden chair in a brown bandeau and grey trousers, one leg crossed, bare foot with black polish, holding matcha. — I count ice cubes, never the minutes.

Lena sits facing the camera in black glasses, a brown bandeau and grey linen trousers, one leg folded, holding matcha against a cream wall. — I claim this spot for every little break.

Lena sits in a brown bandeau and grey trousers, wearing black glasses and sipping matcha through a straw beside the wooden counter. — I need another sip, just to be certain.

Lena wears a brown bandeau, grey trousers and black glasses, resting her elbows on a wooden table and holding matcha with both hands. — I keep my hands cool and my plans loose.

Lena is framed below the face in a brown bandeau and grey trousers, a bare foot with black polish crossed over her leg, holding matcha. — I discover linen never asks permission to crease.

I know this song before the first chorus.

Lena is framed at the waist wearing black glasses and a brown bandeau, holding matcha beside a sugar bowl and folded napkin on the counter. — I skip the sugar but negotiate another biscuit.

Lena leans against a cream wall on a bench, wearing a brown bandeau and grey trousers, legs bent, bare feet between bench and counter, holding matcha. — I talk myself into five more minutes.

Overhead view of Lena’s hands with black nail polish, matcha and glasses on a wooden table, with her brown bandeau and grey trousers visible. — I draw little circles in the condensation.

Lena sits in a brown bandeau and black glasses, adjusting her grey trouser hem, bare foot with black polish, matcha beside the window. — I fold the hem, then change my mind.

Lena stands against a wooden counter in a brown bandeau, grey linen trousers and black glasses, holding matcha, with bare feet on the wooden floor. — I stand up without committing to actually leaving.

Close portrait of Lena wearing black glasses and a brown bandeau, straw at her lips, holding iced matcha against a cream wall lit from the side. — I hide my next bad joke behind a sip.

Lena sits on a chair in a brown bandeau, grey trousers and black glasses, knee raised and bare foot crossed, holding matcha between cream walls. — I let my phone sulk inside my bag.

Lena sits in a brown bandeau and grey trousers, legs crossed, bare foot with black polish, hand on matcha at the counter, shadow on the cream wall. — I find one more excellent reason to stay.