This morning I totally winged it with that classic Breakfast at Tiffany’s vibe. Woke up feeling fancy but lazy, y’know? Grabbed my fluffiest bathrobe—bright pink, not classy black, whatever—and lurched to the kitchen. Scraped the bottom of the coffee tin. Ground the beans noisy as hell, neighbor probably hated me at 7 AM.
The “Tiffany” Setup Disaster
No actual diamond jewelry handy. Pulled my kid’s plastic tiara from a toy bin. Found a dry croissant leftover from Tuesday—kinda stale. Dabbed cheap drugstore lipstick like I meant it. Tried balancing everything on a chipped white plate. Nearly spilled cold brew down my chest. Took the setup to my tiny balcony overlooking the dumpster.
Biggest fails:
- The plastic tiara slid off my bedhead hair three times.
- A pigeon tried stealing my croissant mid-shoot.
- Bathrobe sash kept untying in the wind.
Getting the “Mood” Right
Couldn’t afford real Tiffany blue anywhere. Borrowed my daughter’s sky-blue crayon and smeared it over the balcony glass. Looked like preschool art. Held up the plate like Holly would, elbow shaking. Used my cracked phone camera—no filters, just harsh daylight. Took 47 shots before one looked halfway decent. Croissant crumbs everywhere.
Eventually nailed it by sitting awkwardly sideways, squinting into the sun like I’m deep in thought. Truth? Was just blinded and hungry. Posted it online with the caption: “Got that ‘I don’t wanna adult’ glam.”
Why Bother?
Honestly? Zero life-changing results. Coffee got cold. Felt ridiculous in pink fluff staring at a trash truck. But sometimes pretending to be Audrey Hepburn in your pajamas just… fixes a blah Wednesday. Nobody needs diamonds for that. Just a stolen plastic crown and Tuesday’s pastry. Try it.
