And then, she was back– like a Parisian picture, decked out in delightfully cool black on black that unassumingly confirmed that: “Why naturally, I’ve just come from the laneways of Paris and know them, and their fashionable shops like the back of my hand”, my favourite Helen greeted me post-honeymoon with a big smile and arms outstretched, and we hugged and danced on the spot, and blurted out hundreds of stories like only best girlfriends can– all in the middle of Mamak. I am so very very glad she’s back ♥♥
