Daydream

Perched on the wide windowsill with a cup of tea cradled in her hands, Hayley Marie Coppin is the picture of effortless, unhurried beauty — wrapped in an oversized chunky grey knit cardigan that slips off one shoulder as she gazes out at the rooftops below. The morning light pours in through the tall bay windows in great soft sheets, turning her long blonde hair to spun gold and bathing her bare legs in a warmth that seems almost painted. This is her daily ritual, her favourite kind of quiet — the city waking up below while she sits perfectly still, perfectly content, wearing nothing but the cardigan and a tiny peek of bright knickers beneath.

But daydreams have a way of becoming something more, and Hayley has no intention of staying wrapped up for long. She sets down her cup and lets the cardigan fall open, then slide from her shoulders entirely, revealing every inch of her with a naturalness that is breathtaking — as though being beautiful and bare in a window full of light is simply the most obvious thing in the world. She curls against the glass, the city stretching golden behind her, utterly nude and utterly at ease. Mornings like these, she insists, are the very best kind.

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