I don’t need your permission. I do and wear as I choose. It’s maidens who untie their wrappers for you, Or speak in half whispers their truth. Concealing, revealing, in velvets and silks, I unfailingly transfix every room. As my confidence dares other women To – shoulders back – take their crowns too.

THE LOOKS

THE DETAILS

Rumour has it I murdered my husband, And drank Scotch on the rocks for a kiss. Ever fierce I was painted for posterity, The title of the piece – This Bitch Did This.

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