There’s something romantic about mediated melancholy, especially when you’re all alone in a big city of concrete after dusk and comfortably shrouded in silence. I know I’m a strawberry-tinted chapstick kind of a girl, but I’ve always wanted to try on black lipstick. So I decided to host a small Black Valentines dinner at my place.
I cooked Julia Child’s boeuf bourguignon, mostly because it calls for an entire bottle of dry red wine and you can let it stew until dinnertime. My roommate brought home giant bundles of black balloons, and everyone arrived dressed in monochrome.
We drank blackberry infused gin cocktails and chilled prosecco by candlelight, blasted Joy Division, and burned away our fears.
“Melancholy were the sounds on a winter’s night.”
― Virginia Woolf, Jacob’s Room
A grainy final photobooth shot of the group (Elisa and Fernan, present in spirit) before the end of the night. Here we are in action, on Vine: http://vine.co/v/brXzbEitVqm
P.S. My forever-Valentine announced his surprise visit, and Taurin will be here in just a week!