Velvet Vows

By Kenda Lahresh

Love follows us quietly, like the echo of a song we once heard on repeat. It is in the curve of a friend’s smile, the brush of hands in a crowded street, the soft weight of a pet leaning into your legs. We see it in the glow of our childhood rooms, in the moments we held ourselves before anyone else could, in the fleeting glances that speak more than words ever could. It follows us everywhere, and so does its bittersweet absence.

Love drapes itself over our lives like fur and velvet, soft but unyielding. It is in the small rituals, the quiet mornings, the nights spent alone with our thoughts, the way we forgive ourselves and return to ourselves again. It lingers in fleeting strangers, in shared laughter, in memories we touch like photographs pressed to skin. Every absence sharpens it, every longing marks it, every reunion confirms it.

Love follows us like the echo of a melody we can never forget. It moves through city streets and catwalks, through the satin folds of a dress, the sharp edge of leather, the soft weight of fur brushing shoulders. It is stitched into the seams of fashion, whispered in the silhouettes of Alexander McQueen, the drama of Galliano, the quiet rebellion of Kanye and Kim, the poise of Iman and the thrill of Rihanna. It moves through music, art, and memory, a pulse threading through velvet nights, through songs from the sixties, through the haunting tones of Lana Del Rey and The Weeknd, reminding us that love is everywhere, even when we cannot see it, even when we walk alone.

It hums in music, in the dark velvet tones of Lana Del Rey, the haunting pulse of The Weeknd, the timeless echoes of love songs from the 60s that still make our hearts ache. Love follows us in chords and lyrics, in the improvisation of jazz, the fury of rock, the intimacy of an acoustic guitar strummed in a dimly lit room. Bowie taught us that love is transformation, reinvention, a performance that still lives long after the curtain falls.

We see it in art, in the brushstrokes that capture longing, in sculpture that freezes passion mid-motion. Love is everywhere, even in what we do not recognize, even in the small moments: the glance of a stranger, the laugh of a friend, the way our hands rest on our own bodies in quiet devotion. Self-love is the undercurrent, the river beneath the city lights, the pulse that sustains us as we move through life’s stage.

Love is not only celebrated in couples in magazines, in photos, in applause. It is the force that inspires creativity, the energy that fuels obsession, the tenderness that shapes ambition. It is in the risk of daring fashion, in the vulnerability of performance, in the courage to stand alone and still be adored. It lingers in memory, in absence, in the spaces between moments, reminding us that even fleeting touches, even whispers, even solitary nights are not without love’s presence.

Love follows us. Through leather and lace, through fur and satin, through the flash of cameras and the hush of a gallery. It moves through music, fashion, art, history, through the lives of those who dared to feel and to create. It is patient, relentless, subtle, magnificent. And when we finally notice, we realize it has always been there, shaping us, carrying us, teaching us how to give and how to hold, how to become and how to return.

The world celebrates love in couples in the grand gestures, the spotlight kisses, the red carpets and magazine covers, yet it often forgets the love that moves unseen, the love that waits in patience and in silence. It is the self we cradle, the strength we wear like leather and lace, the fire we carry alone. Its not always perfect but that it is raw, real, and uncompromising, making an empire built not just on passion but on presence, on daring to honor yourself even in the chaos.

We chase the grand gestures and forget the subtler symphonies: a friend’s gaze that reassures, a sibling’s support that steadies, the animal at our feet that offers unconditional devotion. Self-love is the pulse that binds these moments together, the light that keeps them from slipping away. It is the understanding that we are enough, that we deserve our own devotion, that every whisper of care around us is part of the story we live.

Love always follows us. It moves in shadows and in light, in leather jackets and lace dresses, in city streets and empty rooms. It does not ask for permission. It does not wait for acknowledgement. It simply is, quietly insistent, softly relentless, shaping us into who we are and who we will become.

I have a few people who truly showed me what true love is, through friendship uplifting you in times of doubt and pain,  they lift you when doubt weighs heavy in the way they whisper you can do this you are enough when the world forgets to say it.

They are the ones who inspire me, who spark my creativity, who push me to chase ideas that feel too big, too bold, too impossible. They make me want to be better, to dream higher to become the version of myself I did not know I could be.

Love lives in them too in the laughter we share in the late night conversations, the little victories we celebrate like fireworks, the quiet encouragement that carries me farther than I could go alone. It is in the way they see me really see me and hold me up when I cannot hold myself.

These friends are magic creators, dreamers, believers. Their love is patient, soft, relentless. It runs beneath every moment shaping who I am, who I want to be, reminding me that I am never truly alone.

Thank you Isra, for your bubbly, beautiful and cheeky presence lighting up every room you walk into. Thank you, Asri, for your stylish, graceful, and warm presence that makes every moment sparkle. Thank you Saarah, for your sassy side-eye, stunning beauty, and kind heart that spreads joy wherever you are. I love you guys so much and you have shaped so much of who I am today. My girls forever.

Thank you to all my loved ones for inspiring me, lifting me up, and being there during the hard times. Thank you for pushing me to keep going, for encouraging me when I felt like giving up, and for reminding me of my own strength. Your support, kindness,  creativity, energy and love mean more than words can say, and I’m so grateful to have each of you in my life.  I love you all so much.

❦