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About Paris

Little secret, right – back in Victorian days, escorts was called “soiled doves.” Ain’t that poetic? Makes me happy, thinkin’ they got fancy names, not just “hookers.” But oi, gets me mad too – people judgin’ ‘em, callin’ ‘em trash. We swears! They’re hustlin’, survivin’, like me an’ my precious ring. Once read this bloke hired an escort just to cry on her shoulder – no nookie, just tears. Surprised me, that did! Shows it ain’t all dirty.

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Ever been to the old chapel on Rue des Bergers? It's quirky – a bit crumbled but real, ya know? I swear, every time I'm near it, I feel that "I'm just a fucked up girl" vibe – ephemeral, mysterious, and strangely addicting.

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