Donoratico Tada Rock Womenswear 2018 Autumn and Winter Fashion Conference Writing Romantic Night

The "retro style" of Donoratico's winter winter of 2018 was intensified. It was like a thick, indefinable situation. It was in the "I Can Write Tonight" love poem. Those romantic, elegant retro girls of the 1930s are the inspiration for this season.

The classic return journey in winter is not only a classic retro trend but also a reappearance of Dayiyan's classic visual symbols. Houndstooth, classic Plaid, rough wool, as the winter's main fabric, they are like a rough old letter with a temperature, which is timeless.

The shoulder lines and hem of each walking silhouette show the vivid and bright appearance of the old silent girls. The texture of the velvet under the heavy wrap of wool, a little exposed pattern, are more delicate and delicate, like the release of the dynamic tension under the restrained shell.

The collision between toughness and softness is more subtle but still surging in the season. FINAL CURTAIN CALL's intense and sophisticated backstage layout is our tribute to the winter. Writes, for example, "The stars are full of stars, and the stars are blue and trembling in the distance." The evening breeze sang in the sky. Tonight I could write the most sad poem. I love her, and sometimes she loves it too. I. In many nights as if I had embraced her, she kissed her again in the eternal sky. She loves me, and sometimes I love her too. How can I not love her big eyes? I can write the most sad poem tonight and I ca n't own her and feel I have lost her. Hearing the vast night, because she was not more vast, poetry dripping with the soul, such as dewdrops dripping on the grasslands. My love can't tell her to stay. Why don't you leave her? The night is full of stars and she is away from me.

It was past. Someone sang in the distance. In the distance, my heart was unwilling to lose her. My eyes searched as if I was going to her, my heart was looking for her, and she was away from me. The same night bleached the same tree, and we have no longer existed in the past. Now I really do not love her anymore, but I have loved her more and more. My voice tried to explore her hearing by the wind. Others, she will be someone else, as my past kiss, her voice, her bright body, her deep eyes.

Now I really do not love her anymore, but maybe I still love her. Love is so short and I forget it so long. In many nights as if I had embraced her, my heart was unwilling to lose her. Even if it was the last pain she brought me, these are the last poems I wrote for her. Written by Pablo Neruda Baplow Neruda