A Kiss Is A Promise
The shirt cost me three grand. I’ve forgotten the name of the boutique where I purchased it. The name was European, I think. Either Spanish or Portuguese. Although I’m sure it would have little or nothing to do with clothes or fashion in a general sense because the owner didn’t look like he’d traveled past Togo in his search for wares. His English wasn’t even good. The boutique was one of those shops along CENTRAL PLAZA that starched the OK clothes, wrapped them in nylons, put them in...