Victoria Millinery

13/08/2026

Cool, gloomy Thursdays always find a space in me to begin. That is why, whenever the day rises dark and sad, I choose to replace it with the joy of summer. (Victoria)

12/08/2026

I roam through Tuscany, my native land, driven by the love of freedom. No one shall ever chain or manipulate me to bring about my ruin. Heaven bestowed freedom upon me, and I vow to defend it with my very life. (Victoria's letters)
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11/08/2026

11/08/2026

Relaxed and reflective, life always offers opportunities that must be taken with great humility, both in the face of great challenges and achievements. (Victoria)
📷 Mad as a hatter

10/08/2026

August is ripening grain in the fields blowing hot and sunny, the scent of tree-ripened peaches, of hot buttered sweet corn on the cob. Vivid dahlias fling huge tousled blossoms through gardens and joe-pye-weed dusts the meadow purple. (Jean Hersey)
📷 .dailly

08/08/2026

The first week of august hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning... It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons. and sunsets smeared with too much colour. (Natalie Babbitt)
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07/08/2026

I have a ship that does not drift aimlessly. My mind is more like a ship filled with imagination, constantly inviting me to raise the anchor and set sail on a new adventure. I am not lost; there are simply seas within me that are always waiting to be explored. (Victoria)

06/08/2026

He had never wanted to stop being a part of her. He was within her, in that place no one else had ever been allowed to enter. She did not know whether other beings had ever heard Him, whether anyone else had ever known that voice with the same clarity with which she heard it. But she had. She had heard Him. (Victoria's letters)
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05/08/2026

But, in truth, that world did not belong solely to her. It was the world of her soul, that intimate place where she carried on a constant conversation with her own being. There were not two people living inside her. There was only one. One woman, inhabited by a soul that held everything together; a soul that, to her, was also the voice of her Creator, the voice of God. (Victoria's letters)
📸 .a

04/08/2026

Leaving any bookstore is hard especially on a day in august when the street outside burns and glares, and the books inside are cool and crisp to the touch. (Jane Smiley)
📸Maison Laurette