Walk your fingers

sitting on a peeling long table vines wrapped around its legs across macaroons and bunny rabbits. 'pass the tea please.' frills spill put of her mouth, eyelashes shading her pastel pink cheeks, body loose and draped in the monstrous quilted arm chair made of feathers. stripey legs stretched out, ballet shoes breaking the arches of her feet.

how amazing are these bad boys by ronit baranger! yes, no? too creepy?
write me a little something about your dream tea party.