QUEEN OF THE SIDEWALK
PC: Friedemann Hauss
Wherever she went she was the center of all things. Without question. She owned it all - the shoes, the bags and the clothing hanging decadently in her closet like the rarest diamonds. When she stepped out the wind played coyly in her hair and in the folds of her dress, and everyone stared at her consumed with a single question: Who was she? They never doubted for an instant that she was somebody. She was Queen of the Sidewalk. On the weekends she'd wake up early and dress herself with the greatest ceremony. Then she'd wait. She waited and waited looking more devastatingly gorgeous with every passing minute that granted her the time to perfect on perfection. With no one there to ratify the existence of her beauty it was as good as a dream. She needed someone - anyone to see her. Day passed and night came. Her phone remained silent. If only she had somewhere to go. Looking like the very embodiment of magic, and with no real destination in mind, she took to the streets alone. With her hair a flawless fall of waves cascading over the soft Chanel dripping off her shoulders, she could feel the familiar cull of eyes trailing behind her as she walked by aimlessly. She felt whole again.