The reason I know #thisisnotme is because, well, I don't smoke—never tried, never will.
(Don't let them revoke my citizenship!)
Other than that, I think we can all agree that this may as well be me. Must-have bomber jacket with correct name emblazoned on back, check. Messy mane of locks, worn tucked-in French style, absolutely. Teeny-tiny cutoffs, definitely been there, done that. Devil-may-care attitude by way of flawless butt-cheek flashing on roof terrace overlooking the world's best city, I mean duh. I always look this good. In fact, #Iwokeuplikethis. I wake up like this, like, everyday.
If someone would be kind enough as to let the folks at Victoria Secret know. Cheers.
Meanwhile, I'm filing this one in the family album under ´that time when I was young and a hot succesful supermodel'. The grand-kids will never know the difference.