Ivy Capiago Intimiano Olmeda Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Florence

My fave thing? This wild story—there was this brothel in Paris, right? Called Le Chabanais, super luxe, had a room with mirrors EVERYWHERE. Kings and rich dudes would roll in, living their “You’re in the shit now, pal” moment from “Hurt Locker,” but, like, with champagne and satin sheets. I’m picturing it—me walking in, all fab, like, “This is my runway, bitches!” Total slay. But, real talk, it closed after WW2—sad vibes.

Capiago-Intimiano-Olmeda

Then, I get a text from my buddy. He’s like, “Let’s meet at the fountain in Piazza della Libertà.” So, I rush over. I’m dodging people, and I’m late. Of course! I get there, and he’s already sipping on a spritz. I’m like, “Dude, you couldn’t wait?”