THE CHARGES:
Majesty over meaning.
Wit over wisdom.
THE PLEA:
Grandly,
greatly,
giddily guilty.
Ever since I discovered the power of fashion, and the way it shaped how everyone viewed you, then employed it strategically and deliberately, I’ve been plagued with a reputation of favoring the sartorial over the substantial. Not that I’ve ever bothered to dispel the myth, quite the contrary: when the world thinks what you put on your back is all you have to offer, they never expect to be so diabolically outsmarted.
Glamour can be bought,
Style… this must be taught.
I got that style.
When I walk into the room all the people turn their heads to get the perfect view.
It’s just my Style.
It’s my Style to break a heart or two.
Charm and finesse seem to always get me through.
It’s my Style.
Style!
A cool, cool style.
Style!
You may ask wherever did I get my sense of style.
A girl like me is just born with it.
You know I can sweep you off your feet because baby, I am Unique.
It’s my Style.
A cool, cool style.
Glamour can be bought
Style ~ this must be taught.
Here’s one last secret I’ll confess:
How do you win a stylish girl like me?
Well, since I’m always dressed to impress
Buy me something gorgeous…
~ The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale ~
- Pink Frilly Fairy: Part One, Part Two, and Part Three
- Homage to Herb: Part One, Part Two and Part Three
- A Purple-Hued Interlude
