Léna Verselle

A peek inside my wardrobe…

White crop top, balcony aperitif

I settle onto the balcony for an aperitif as the city slows down, the tiles still warm beneath my feet. My white crop top and shorts let me enjoy every little breeze. I catch the smell of garlic drifting up from a neighbour’s kitchen. I keep promising myself I’ll make dinner, then finding another excuse to stay out here.

Lena sitting on a white balcony chair in a textured white crop top and shorts, one knee raised, holding up a wine glass. — I love it when drinks turn into dinner.

Lena sitting sideways in a textured white crop top and shorts, bare feet hanging beside a white bistro table on the balcony. — I can still feel the warmth of the tiles.

Lena in a white crop top and shorts, leaning against the balcony wall with eyes closed and legs raised towards the white table. — I close my eyes and pretend the traffic is cicadas.

Lena sitting with legs folded on a white chair, wearing a white crop top and shorts, chin resting on her hand overlooking the city. — I wonder who downstairs is cooking something so good.

Lena standing with her back to the camera in a textured white crop top and shorts, hands on the balcony railing, one bare foot raised. — I count the windows where dinner is getting started.

Lena shown in a balcony portrait wearing a textured white crop top, holding a glass of white wine close to her lips. — I mostly taste the joy of having no plans.

Lena sitting in a white crop top and shorts, hands around her shin, bare foot with red polish beside a white balcony table. — I keep time with the song playing next door.

Lena’s bare feet with vermilion toenail polish rest on the white table crossbar, with a gold anklet visible above the tiled balcony floor. — I discover the metal is still warm from the sun.

Lena sitting on a balcony chair in a white crop top and shorts, arms stretched above her head and one knee raised. — I save my last bit of effort for choosing dinner.

Lena sitting in a white crop top and shorts on a balcony chair, one hand on her raised knee, beside an empty wine glass. — I bargain with my stomach for five more minutes.