new year new you?

(the cherry blossom girl)

There's nothing more hopeful then the promise of a new year and the honest resolve of being a better person. Here are my 2010 resolutions:


*write more letters and less e-mails
*become fiscally responsible
*floss
*blog less, work more
*get 7 hours of sleep a night
*walk everywhere, even in the rain
*wear heels like a french women (ie everyday)
*find a new favorite nail color
*start and finish A Man Without Qualities
*buy fresh cut flowers for every occasion
*say YES!

in training

Kids in Paris are just cuter. period.

later canada

PACKED

DID YOU MISS ME PARIS?

arduous applications

Ahhh the holidays, a time for rest, a time for relaxation, a time to catch up on all the things you neglected to do during the year. In between countless Christmas parties and munching on chocolate truffles I'm attempting to complete the 1829408329048q9023 million applications I need for the upcoming summer.

I'm not really sure which direction I'm headed, but I'm pretty sure the road I'm wandering runs through New York or Paris. What to do?

ART?
FASHION?
ART?
FASHION?

Keep your fingers crossed, it takes more then a smile to infiltrate some of the places I'm applying.

If anyone has any suggestions/an aunt that works at Vogue lemme know!

Let the countdown begin

Carrie Bradshaw and company have had a special place in my heart since grade 6, when I discovered HBO and all of its inappropriate nighttime programming.

Mark your calenders for cosmos and Carrie on May 28th.

any excuse

CHRISTMAS IS HERE!

Pop a bottle of Veuve and celebrate the last few days of 2009!

Mind the gap

Georgia Jagger for British Vogue.

HOT HOT HOT

Public transportation is clearly overrated

It's 4:30 in the morning and as is so often the case in France, there are no cabs to be found. What to do? Well if you're like most Parisians you either get on a velib and bike home, or if you're not a fan of the drunken Tour de France, then you wait until 5:30 when the metro opens. The Parisian metro simply encourages bad behavior by stopping from 2:00 to 5:30am. That's a guaranteed extra 3 1/2 hours of unintentional lechery. Of course then you figure, I'm out until 5:30 anyway, what's the harm in few extra hours? And so I often find myself heading home around sunrise, heels in hand, just in time to greet the morning shopkeepers on St. Honore. I'm convinced that the sales accociate at Lanvin thinks I'm a women of loose morals.
Bad bad bad behavior.

See you in 12

I'm dashing home for the holidays, but don't worry I'll be back in time to ring in the new year. I'm jazzed to visit with family and friends but my heart remains in France. No amount of high school nostalgia or spiked eggnog could make me forget it. I haven't even left but I'm already plotting my return. Winter semester seems destined to be even more epic then Fall.

January Sched is as follows:

J money does New Years
Connecticut invasion
Twin joining me at Sci Po
Boltanski/the greatest New Yoker at Grand Palais
Exams (unfortunately must be acknowledged)
More late nights, hopefully less bar fights???

Off to Charles de Gualle, far too many overweight bags in hand!

Bisous bitches!

Pleats

Chloé Autumn/Winter 2009 Ready-to-Wear

another night another dance floor

(Cobrasnake photo cred)

Sometime it seems like no matter where you start all roads lead to one place. For me that place is my nighttime location of choice,
Le Baron. Check your inhibitions and dignity at the door, this place is not for the faint of heart. Run by nightlife aficionados La Clique, Baron is the perfect place to let loose and hit the floor until 6am. Artists employed as DJs spin tracks that keep the bodies moving until the crack of dawn. The music is so fantastic that people actually dance instead of perching pretentiously behind bottle service - what a novel concept. If your stiletto clad feet need a break you can always squeeze your way into one of the many banquettes that line the dance floor. That is, if you can squeeze past the bouncer first; the door is tight.

Drink of choice: le baron, alright so the name won't win any awards for originality but this champagne filled concoction is delishhh!

Notable resident: Boris the bartender always gives service with a smile.

red planet

Photographed by Chris Colls.

Sweet bodysuit, green bow shoes, and bronze Prada dress.

POP

Giambattista Valli Spring/Summer 2010

Coral is such a hard colour to do well.

And those shoooooes.

So says Earnest and so says I

(Colin P. holds down the fort at the Hemingway)

Paris is home to many things, great music, fantastic art, superior fashion; it is not, however home to the classic cocktail. Trying to find a decent martini in this city is like searching for meaning in a Will Ferrell movie - a confusing, impossible, and ultimately fruitless endeavor. One of the sole exceptions is my local joint at Place Vendôme: the Hemingway Bar, located in the Ritz hotel, which represents all that is great about old school Paris. Dark wood paneling, leather club chairs, cucumber water and warm nuts....life could be worse.

Pretentious? Yes. Amazing? You bet!

Earnest Hemingway certainly thought so. He was a loyal patron to the bar that was eventually renamed in his honor. Rumour has it that Hemingway was so eager to announce the end of the German occupation that he fired a shotgun into the ceiling of the Ritz bar to celebrate - but not before ordering a cocktail first. Such a character.

Grab some close friends, and spend an evening talking politics in a place without thumping techno music. Reservations are not allowed but neither are jeans or T-shirts. Keep it clean and classy, this place has a semi-formal dress code.

Drink of choice: Classic dry martini. I prefer mine with vodka, chilled to exactly -18.3 degrees celcius, 3 olives please. (One of the few places in Paris they'll have the common decency not to drown you in Vermouth).

Notable resident: Colin P, is largely reported to be the best bartender in the world. I'll back that.

weekend warrior

*asleep at 4
*fashion exam at 8
*leisurely stroll
*vintage rummaging in the marais
*books held hostage at pompedou, damn strikers
*lunch with bunny
*champagne and punk rock by beaubourg, thanks irish.
*yoga can wait
*italian dins with my two favorite girls
*buffalo mozza on everything
*limoncello parting gift
*drinks with two frenchies
*rue cler sleepover, as per usual
*ladurée monthly fix.
*catch up drinks at amour, it's been too long
*baron baron baron
*early saturday night/sunday morning
*flea market finds
*brrr it's cold
*studyage?
*let's not and say we did

Move over Armadillos

Definitely inspired by Margiela, Brazilian shoe designer Andrei Chaves is causing a sensation with her unorthodox footwear.

("invisible shoe": made out of flexible glass)

("form and texture shoe": made out of wood cubes)

("twirled shoe": made out of PVC and metal)

I'm normally not such a huge fan of footwear that is this avant-garde but I'm really feeling this collection.

Invisible shoes are hot.

I guess times really are rough

Tavern on the Green is bankrupt and on January 13th all the contents of the opulent restaurant will be put up for auction. All those spectacular Waterford and Baccarat crystal chandeliers, bronze cherubs, and stained glass will be unceremoniously stripped and sold to the highest bidder.

It kind of breaks my heart.

Yes Tavern was a little tacky, and always full of tourists snapping photos in the Spring, but there was also something beautiful and nostalgic about it. I have such fond memories of long strolls with mumsy in central park followed by late lunching in the Crystal Room.

Tavern managed to survived over 70 years in a city where most restaurants don't last a year. It was the original home of ladies who lunch, including Grace Kelly who used to stopped by every time she visited New York.

RIP Tavern

I'll miss you and your plush upholstery.

shambles

4 papers, 2 final exams, 1 expo, 260 pages of reading, and many nights out need to happen before I flee Paris.

Unfortunately, I'll still have 2 final exams waiting for me upon my return.

That's right, Sciences Po puts their exams after Christmas break.

Merde.

I'll judge you on your choice

Betty or Veronica, Carrie or Samantha, and now.....Blair or Serena?

Scathing comebacks, meticulous attention to detail, impossibly perfect outfits for every occasion, you know I'm Team Blair. Serena is a coked-up peroxide blond destined for trophy wife status, who's talents don't extend past her cleavage. Well alright, she's good at hair flipping too.

“She’s best friends with this girl, Blair Waldorf. Who is basically everything I hate about the Upper East Side distilled into one 95-pound, doe-eyed, bon mots tossing, label-whoring package of girly evil.” - Dan

You said it Humphrey!

hi/low showdown

Rodarte for Target, YES!




Sonia Rykiel for H&M, NO!

I better get an “A”

This semester I’m taking perhaps the greatest class ever conceived by an academic institution: the history of fashion. In a terribly uncharacteristic move I’ve managed to read the entire textbook, including 70 carefully selected pages on international copyright law, and I loved every minute of it. My teacher is a Viktor and Rolf wearing, mid-20 something, french genius, who studied under Yves Saint Laurent, and taught at Columbia; suffice to say I am absurdly jealous. She’s impossibly intimidating and terrifies 95% of the people in our class but I don’t care. She’s opinionated, discerning, and completely fantastic! One of the few teachers at Sciences Po that does not make me want to bang my head against a brick wall. Last class we did a segment on Haute Couture and next class we’ll be addressing the piracy paradox. I repeat,

GREATEST CLASS EVER.

Can't find this on Ebay

The ever evasive fashion house Masion Martin Margiela is selling off some of their most iconic pieces online at YOOX. If you've got a spare $10 000 lying around indulge yourself by buying something truly unique. If I had that luxury I would certainly purchase this disco ball jacket made for the 2008 spring/summer collection.

Simply divine, don't you think?

No one is quite sure when Martin actually left the house, because he refuses to give interviews or be photographed, but I will say that the past few seasons have been lackluster at best. This jacket represents the glory years when editors were still happy to get lost following hand drawn maps that lead to creepy cemeteries just to view Margiela's collection. Now the house seems to have lost its edge. As such, anyone with the funds should purchase one of these outfits for posterity. It seems unlikely that we'll see anything this great from the masion of Margiela again.

romans of the decadence

Masks are badass especially when paired with couture.

no rest for the wicked

After two very late nights, I kind of feel like this.......


My papers are piling up

My immune system is defecting

So I really ought to go home and sleep

But it's Friday

So I'll stay out late

And deal with the consequences tomorrow

Moderation is overrated anyway

dynasty

Anja Rubik by Ben Hassett

body electric

Vogue Nippon

type writer blues

Power to the prol

It is a well known fact that Paris is permanently on strike. A reality I was forced to confront last Saturday when I tried to go to a photo exhibit only to realize the Centre Pompidou was en grève. There is nothing the French love more then a good grassroots protest. This is a country where rural farmers once dismantled a newly built McDonalds to quell what they deemed to be the “cultural disease of American expansionism.” The French infectious attitude is more then enough to make me grab a sign and picket along with the masses.

Vive la revolution!

But wait……..what are we protesting for again?

knickers and lace

Black magazine