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听一首老歌,把自己放回到豆蔻年华。老式的电影,放着老式的曲子,许许多多婀娜多姿的女子,身着华丽的旗袍,摆着优雅的姿势,在繁华的街道上轻盈漫步,在喧嚣的舞场里绽放舞姿,在富丽堂皇的厅堂里轻声细语。那时,我知道了旗袍总是那样优雅、多姿,总是那样华贵和清丽。我把旗袍的美一一写在日记里,我把旗袍的梦一一放在脑海里。梦中,我穿着月牙白色清雅的旗袍,紫色的暗花,紫色的镶边,紫色的盘扣,撑一把旧式的油纸伞,行走在江南三月的小巷里,白墙青石,几枝紫丁花斜斜地从墙里伸出,天
Listen to an old song, put yourself back to the nutmeg. Old-fashioned movies, old-fashioned songs, many graceful women, dressed in gorgeous cheongsam, posed in elegant posture, walking lightly in the bustling streets, dancing in the noisy dance arena, in the magnificent hall In whisper At that time, I know the cheongsam is always so elegant, colorful, always so luxurious and elegant. I put the cheongsam beauty one by one in the diary, I put the dream of cheongsam one by one in mind. In my dream, I wore a cheongsam white elegant cheongsam, purple dark flowers, purple trim, purple plate buckle, hold an old paper umbrella, walking in the southern alley in March, white walls bluestone, a few purple Dinghua obliquely from the wall, days