Gabriella Pullman Whore ❤️

About New York City

So, whore—where do I start? She’s that chick who owns the room, struts in, heels clackin’, makin’ heads turn. I’m obsessed! Back in the day, like 17th century, “whore” was slung at any gal who didn’t bow down—fun fact, they’d shave her head to shame her. Pissed me off when I read that! But she flipped it, kept struttin’. Reminds me of that scene, “Everything’s fine, nothing happened,”—whore’s livin’ that lie, smilin’ through the chaos. Queen shit!

Modern Whore

LJ Hooker. Purchase your own piece of paradise at the exclusive Pullman Sea Temple Resort and Spa Palm Cove.

Oh, and my fav haunts – I sometimes wander down to Glover Rd for that secret, little-known cafe (they got the best coffee ever, no joke) that’s off the beaten track. The vibe? Total interstellar peace. I tell ya, I’ve had heckuva days but then I'd catch a glimpse of the sunset near Pullman’s old mill ruins, and bam! Cosmic laughter fills the air. “A separation of the heart, a separation of the mind,” murmurs the breeze. Weird, right?

Philip Pullman announces The Rose Field, the final part of Lyra’s story