It was meant to be!
As I was scrolling through these photos of Harry Winston on Fifth Ave, New York, this very old Marilyn Monroe song came on. Out of curiousity, I looked up the lyric and I must say it is pretty funny and materialistic.
The French are glad to die for love.
They delight in fighting duels.
But I prefer a man who lives
And gives expensive jewels.
A kiss on the hand
May be quite continental,
But diamonds are a girl's best friend.
A kiss may be grand
But it won't pay the rental
On your humble flat
Or help you at the automat.
Men grow cold
As girls grow old,
And we all lose our charms in the end.
But square-cut or pear-shaped,
These rocks don't loose their shape.
Diamonds are a girl's best friend.
Tiffany's!
Cartier!
Black Starr!
Frost Gorm!
Talk to me Harry Winston.
Tell me all about it!
There may come a time
When a lass needs a lawyer,
But diamonds are a girl's best friend.
There may come a time
When a hard-boiled employer
Thinks you're awful nice,
But get that ice or else no dice.
He's your guy
When stocks are high,
But beware when they start to descend.
It's then that those louses
Go back to their spouses.
Diamonds are a girl's best friend.
I've heard of affairs
That are strictly platonic,
But diamonds are a girl's best friend.
And I think affairs
That you must keep liaisonic
Are better bets
If little pets get big baguettes.
Time rolls on,
And youth is gone,
And you can't straighten up when you bend.
But stiff back
Or stiff knees,
You stand straight at Tiffany's.
Diamonds! Diamonds!
I don't mean rhinestones!
But diamonds are a girl's best friend.
