Go ahead, raise 'em high where I can see them. Her hat, the red lipstick and of course, those goddamn FLOWERS. Utter. Greatness. And this Parisian chick knows it, too.
That's when I figured, why let the Parisians have all the fun? They already get the to-die-for accent and near perfect bone structure. See where I'm going with this? Of course you do.
Yours truly, moi, jumped in the car last night, raided Wal-Mart's decorative flower section, chopped up some felt and burnt myself too many times with a glue gun while my boyfriend serenaded me on the ukulele and produced this little number:
But did I stop there? Nah, of course not. Naturally, I had to one up the above-referenced Parisian chick so I threw on some pearls and a simple gold chain as some, fou fou (emphasis added for French accent).
Total damage: $12 and some blisters from the glue gun, but worth it.