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It’s a pasta party while floating in the sea with your friends.

It’s a Matisse odalisque.

It’s digging your toes down deep to find the still warm sand on a cold day at the beach.

It’s Picasso on Christmas.

It’s hosting a cocktail party at home and never getting out of your pajamas.

It’s psychedelic print ALL OVER.

It’s Mick and Bianca on tour.

It’s a bed-in.

It’s bathtub sofas and martinis.

It’s drawing on the walls.

It’s Linda, Cindy, Helena, Naomi and Kate. OG.

It’s a good novel at work.

It’s a David Hockney pool.

It’s resting your head in the laps of loved ones.

It’s grass between your toes.

It’s a surfer sock hop.

It’s a siesta with Diego and Frida.

It’s an adventure without a journey.

It’s a picnic with too much food.

It’s your dog cleaning your plate at the table.

It’s love because hate is a burden.

It’s YSL in Morocco.

It’s a tower of hammocks.

It’s music at magic hour.

It’s Dali painting in the sun.

It’s swimming in the newspaper on Sunday.

It’s luxury but not expense.