On The Distance

Naked Weeks

The first two weeks of Fashion Month were shamelessly skipped. I just wanted to spend all my time in our bed. Completely naked. Clients wrote to me, showrooms called, brands invited me… And I just smiled into the phone while looking at him sitting on the couch with his shirt off. He also skipped most of his work, but somehow it was easier for him, and he didn’t feel guilty about canceling another meeting. I kept remembering how hard it had been for me to get my first orders in order to establish myself in the industry.

My conscience receded briefly as soon as we lost ourselves on the snow-white sheets. Probably for the first time, I had absolutely no ideas about how I would dress myself, or even what kind of images I wanted to create. I wanted to be naked all the time!

I struggled to get to Milan, feeling as though a thread was being pulled between us. There were so many shows and so much work in general that I didn’t always make it back to the hotel by midnight, and it was too late to text him. Later, I told him how afraid I was that this would drive us apart.

In rainy Paris, nothing seemed to have changed, except that I was even more tired, visiting six or seven places a day. And I had the idea of choosing a memorable gift for him—just in case. Or in case our personalities were much less compatible than our bodies.

On the third day, Paris remained as magnificent as ever, only I saw all this beauty from the car window, catching myself several times a day thinking that I would like to admire it together with him.

I was driving with my chauffeur along the boulevard at night, almost falling asleep, when suddenly…

“Excuse me, mademoiselle, but there’s a surprise for you…” the driver said, clearing his throat. I perked up, looking around, and suddenly dozens of fireworks exploded along the roadside, lighting up the entire street. After driving a little further, we stopped. Of course, I guessed who could have arranged this for me, but I still couldn’t help squealing with delight when I saw him, smiling widely, in front of the Eiffel Tower…

07. 03 - 06. 09. 2021

Mornings Like This

I was awakened by a kiss on my shoulder, light as a feather. I moaned softly, not wanting to wake up. On top of that, I didn’t quite understand where I was—a couple of hotel rooms flashed through my mind, but not the one I was in now.

The kiss was repeated. I reluctantly opened my eyes and immediately thanked myself for not choosing a room with windows facing east—even from this view, I could tell how sunny the day was.

I finally remembered the city called Paris. Now I just had to make sure that these gentle touches weren’t just my imagination, and I really didn’t want to be disappointed in my guesses. So I made a decision that was a nightmare from a time-management perspective—to lie there and see how he would react.

“Baby,” my man’s voice sounded alarmed. I held my breath—maybe my moans had been quiet and he hadn’t heard them, and now he was worried that I wouldn’t wake up? I wanted to squeal with tenderness, but now it was too late to give up.

“Are you… asleep?” he asked a little louder. I still didn’t move, although it was difficult to hold back my laughter.

“Diane?” his voice sounded worried above my ear.

I turned sharply and, laughing loudly, tried to grab him, but he recoiled in surprise and fell awkwardly to the floor. My laughter barely drowned out his curses.

01. 10. 2021

Wypijmy za miłości!

Just think—a year ago, my friend Mira and I had wandered onto the Île Saint-Louis in the center of Paris. The sun was shining brightly that day, and it seemed as if these streets had been transported straight from the French Riviera.

I must say that at that time I was still skeptical about our meetings with Him—a little spontaneous, a little awkward, but very passionate. Sometimes I was confused: how could this end? (And would it end?) Without realizing it, I was looking for a sign from above to cast aside all doubts and relax (under his gorgeous body, my inner voice teased maliciously), especially since he was subtly hinting that he wanted more than just… s*x.

There we were, chatting away, turning the corner and finding ourselves back on the sunny side. Out of habit, which had started two years ago when we first came here for work, we began to examine another sign on the door of a white building. We did this to improve our French, but this time we didn’t need it…

My friend coughed meaningfully and, apparently to be sure, nudged me in the side with her elbow. As soon as I understood the meaning of the words in the unfamiliar language written in Latin letters, as if torn from a forgotten world, I just shrugged. But it was difficult to hold back a broad smile, as if I had received an unexpected greeting from someone we had seen only yesterday.

I couldn’t resist and sent Him a photo from the scene, to which he replied with a laughing emoji. I started to smile even wider. It happens sometimes—there are thousands of buildings in the city, and I had stumbled upon a Polish library! My French lessons were ruined.

After walking around, we went in for a bite to eat and, a little confused, ordered a bottle of wine.

A couple of friends joined us, and the wine was shared equally among us all. Mira looked at me and smiled throughout the entire dinner—we always communicated with facial expressions during particularly exciting moments.

“Say ‘yes’ to him,” she whispered in my ear at the end. I laughed, and then… I realized I had no choice.

A couple of messages to clarify, and here I was, standing up and proposing a toast:

“Wypijmy za miłości!” *

03. 10. 2021

* ‘’Let’s drink for love!’’