InsaneJournal

Week Four- Thursday
Who: Elisabetta & Silva
Where: The enclosed gardens of the Tower.
When: Thursday Evening.
What: Recently moved in, Elisa steals a few moments alone, while the baby sitter is on the clock, to enjoy her new home.


One would never think, that clothing would play such a pivotal role, in a persons life. As a child, who could barely afford new shoes, clothing had been a luxury, and never had it been designer threads, resting upon the little Italian girls back. It was, whom ever she happened to be living with at the time, could afford to by her. Not that she ever knew to complain, that was how it always had been. She never knew any better, and there fore, would not expect better.

When you are given very little, from the start, to learn that very little will come to you. These children, so spoiled, and ungrateful. They valued nothing, but received it all. They never had reason to want for anything, but still they complained. If something wasn't the right color, or the right name brand, they were unhappy. Never, could they see how truly blessed they were. It saddened her.

Lucia would never be one of those children, Elisa was determined to never allow it to happen. No, she would never have to worry about, whether she would have clothing for school. Between her mothers money, earned from years as a model, and the rather generous corporate salary, that her father earned, they would never be room to worry.

Clothing, it had been the vein of Elisa life, for some time now. Long before becoming a woman, she walked runways, the newest fashions clinging to her tall frame. How popular she had been at home. Success was not lost in the states either. Though, most work here, and been editorial.

That life, though she had enjoyed it, was in the past now. It was time, as her father had put it, to use her special gifts, to find work. Ispirazione, to inspire those with a creative touch. Talent was not always needed, but it certainly helped. She was a Muse, not a miracle worker, after all. Thus far, her business had began to bloom. Several steady clients under her belt, one being a writer... his typing was quickly becoming irritating, but really. It was easy work, she did nothing, but place herself in his presence. That was all it took.

The black heeled boots clicked across the ground, as she walked, her arms folded across the front of her body, hugging in the warmth, while she admired the lush green. The flowers, still shy due to the cool winter. Much like New York, she had discovered. Given the cool, she could not bring herself, to dress in such a way, that was not fashionable. The need to do so, was now deeply engrained. At a time, it wasn't good enough, to look perfect on the runway, or in photo. One had to look like a model, at all times. That, she did not miss.