I'm not the kind of person who folds my things milimetrically and leaves them religiously in a drawer.
For me, fashion is the opposite, I like pieces that live strong, that live a long time, that accompany me from day to day and that have several lives.
The first time I was offered a fouta, I was told "you'll see, it's super practical for the summer, ideal as a beach towel".
And it was true, it accompanied me on the cold beaches of Brittany during the first bridges of May to my summer on the Mediterranean, but not only.
This fouta I wore proudly around my hips as if I had just come out of an exotic film in the heart of a Tunisian hammam, it protected me from the sun during bike rides, it kept me warm around my shoulders when September arrived, it still carries a few drops of mint water spilled by my daughter in the family garden as well as the smell of the grass where my husband laid it down in secret to read a book in the shade of a tree
Today, my fouta continues its thousand and one lives in my house, I sometimes find it on my sofa snuggled between two cushions, or in my bathroom to add a touch of colour, but most often I find it on my lap where it warms me with memories of our holidays.
