We surround ourselves with discreet but dreamy friends, the kind who say: “What if we drop everything tomorrow and open a bar?”The ones who seem to live in the background, but are secretly writing their own movie without asking for permission or forgiveness.
The ones who speak of vertigo, of the invisible, of what you’d do if you weren’t afraid.Of success as peace, not noise.We were united by ideas, sensitivity, and that half-punk, half-zen energy of people who don’t fit… but fit together perfectly.
And yes, sometimes our ideas slip away.We get crushed by rush, overwhelmed by the web, afraid to repeat ourselves.And just when we’re about to shut it all down, someone writes to us—and it all beats again.
Because this isn’t just about empowerment.Or trends.It’s about finding space where there were only corners.Stop asking for permission.Feeling part of something when you thought you were always going solo.
What are we doing here?Just that: here we are.In this blog, this project, this imperfect altar where we pour our soul.Sometimes with style.Sometimes with nostalgia.Sometimes with a glass of wine and crooked eyeliner.But always true.
We are daughters of beautiful chaos.Of “I don’t know, but I want to try.”Of planless Sundays that become legend.Of voice notes that feel like undercover therapy.Of ideas without form… that still move us.
We talk about places, craft, our little corners,But also the fear of not being liked,The joy of not being afraid,The vertigo and bliss of doing something our way, without a manual.
And yes, we’ve matured.We’re in our true prime:The one who laughs at her own mistakes, never at others’.The one who doesn’t need to be right, just at peace.The one who isn’t afraid of looking foolish—because that’s where the spark is.
As I love to say (those who have a small town know this),In life there are two kinds of people:Those who go to the party for the gossip…And those who go to dance, get carried away,And end up being the gossip themselves.And they’re totally fine with that.
Normals, no thanks.May we never lose our weird.May we never run out of crazy.And if someday we feel we have nothing new to say, May we look at each other and ask:
Are we the story we wanted to read?