by Maria Burmaster
On a nondescript, cold and rainy day we’re nestled inside London’s British Museum, soaking in a museum we’ve never visited and maybe even waiting for a blip of babe to pop up on our radar.
Not just any babe, we want radiance, beauty and preferably good news on this drab day. Then all wishful thinking stops. She appears. She appears in the colors of honeybee actually, and we feel warm again.
Her name is Adele or Delly, as her friends call her. She wears what looks to be a giant, asymmetrical yellow sheepskin vest over black: a tint of charcoal black crossed over with shades of witch black; basically all we can say is that she’s wearing lots of black.
It goes without saying but with such an outfit, this British lass is most definitely an untroubled style shaker and resplendent surprise on an otherwise gloomy London day.
Six months later, we’ve tracked down Adele to ask her a loads of questions that we were too sheepish to ask her in person, on that fateful day.
