Hunched over my laptop in the middle of my very beige kitchen in whatever leggings I picked up off the floor this morning, I feel the need for some glamour. A specific sort of at-home glamour, one that involves silken loungewear and fussy lamps and toiletries with art decor lines. I want a boudoir. Fortunately, the archives are absolutely chockful of publicity shots of contract players from the studios of Old Hollywood, which provide ample inspiration for this vibe. Perhaps you, too, would be interested?
