Sex and The City in Hong Kong’ Collection

The Preserved Mediterranea

Petals fall—some caught on tattered velvet,
others brushing against chiffon before scattering on the streets of Arles.
But the lingering fragrance remains,
I lift my dress to my nose and inhale for a moment,
Is this scent from the South of France, or is it from the flowers? I cannot say.

The touch is cool, devoid of any summer heat,
I imagine it's the wind from Tuscany,
silently entwining with the fabric after meeting in the height of summer.

When Elizabeth David returned from Southern Europe,
she captured the essence of her culinary experiences in "A Book of Mediterranean Food."
Architect Karl Friedrich Schinkel gathered bricks from Southern Europe,
and built a paradise of the South in Germany.

As for me, all I need to do is open my wardrobe,
where the fragrance of flowers greets me,
a gentle breeze stirs,
and effortlessly, I once again take in the entirety of you.

‘Ever Thine, Ever Mine, Ever Ours’

She delicately opened the envelope, her fingertips gracefully caressing the card. Petals from the letter gently fluttered down as she unfolded it.

Pale pink petals entwined with the delicate folds of her La Perla skirt, imparting their hue onto the fabric. Brewing a bright pink, akin to that Blumarine form-fitting dress. Another crimson rose petal tumbled from the envelope, landing on the vibrant red silk of her Valentino blouse, drifting down slowly, withering into a deep brown, mirroring the essence of that woven rose skirt from Dolce & Gabbana in 1997. Elegant, romantic, timeless.

Petals scattered on the ground, her gaze then shifted to the words on the card.
"Dear me,
Love Yourself.
From me."

This was a letter from her, to her, from the heart.

Rear Window

Looking through the rear window, a maiden lies on pristine sheets,
Her secrets hidden within the folds.

In a Christian Dior gown of soft elegance trailing on the floor,
Intertwined with passions on the bed;
Laces, whether pure white or light brown, meander from the straps,
Caressing delicate skin,
As she murmurs softly,
Beyond the heavy window, unheard words,
Only witnessing her luscious red lips opening and closing,
Like a ripe summer cherry.

A cherry's juice drops, unfolding and spreading on the sheets,
Blooming like flowers.

After a while, her eyelids droop, drowsiness sweeping over,
Leaning by the bedside, she yawns,
Carrying these thoughts into sweeter dreams.
Her lips curl, dimples deep, the fragrance of peaches lingering in the chamber,
Perhaps the dream isn't in her mind, she is the dream.

An Evergreen Garden at Giverny

A treasury of floral treasures,

an ode to the Monet Garden where every season unfurls as an everlasting spring,

a heartfelt tribute to my most beloved season of all.

The Blumarine Archive

She breathes youthful innocence and boundless exuberance into Blugirl,
And weaves the refinement and romanticism of womanhood into Blumarine.
In a fashion world dominated by male designers,
She, through a woman's gaze, unveils the beauty reserved for women.

This is a poetic tribute to Anna Molinari,
Honoring her creations, Blumarine and Blugirl, with heartfelt reverence.

Letters to You

Discover the heartfelt letters penned by our shop owner, Vivianne, exclusively for you.

These intricately woven letters reveal the enchanting tales and cherished anecdotes that reside within each collection, unveiling the exquisite beauty and grace that breathe life into every piece.