What's a girl to do when she's blue?  Pull herself up by her bootstraps and get herself down to the wee shop on the corner of Victor Hugo and Penitents Blancs where she finds a hand sewn black tassled flapper dress, woven through with silver thread. She pays 15 bucks for it, takes it home and puts it on.  She has no where to go nor no one to go with, but she washes her face, cleans her teeth, scrapes some red out of the end of an old, dried up tube of lipstick with her finger tip, sprays Paris around her shoulders and wrists and takes this photo.