White Heat

Photographer Miguel Reveriego for Numéro magazine

ferrrrrrrocious

Rhianna makes it rain for Vogue Italia

The way I see it....

Starbucks really out to be outlawed in a city like Paris. The idea of American tourists ordering their grande skim mocha lattes every day like they're doing their morning subway commute is more then I can bear. There are beautiful cafes on every corner of this city and yet investment bankers and soccer moms alike insist on regularly paying 7 euros for their native caffeine fix.

I greatly dislike these people, I really do.

Unfortunately - and I'm ashamed to admit this in public (or on the internet, which is essentially the same thing) - over the past few weeks I've become a Parisian STARBUCKS CONVERT. Now before you stone me with accusations of hypocrisy, hear me out. Even though I'm about to take the low road by absolving myself of all responsibility. I'm blaming this unfortunate situation on the Cafe Paradox (a term I'm in the process of copyrighting), to describe the contrary rules of Parisian cafe owners. You can take 4 hours to eat lunch but take out your laptop and the waiter will hustle you out like your afflicted with bubonic plague. Likewise, as soon as they see a highlighter the bus boy who was making eyes at you earlier will suddenly decide that you're public enemy #1.

I have hundreds of pages to read each week and I simply cannot do it in the 5 by 10 water closet I call my apartment. And so, after being glared and stared far too many times I've done the unthinkable, packed up all my shit and plonked myself down at my local Starbucks.

So here I sit, unbothered underneath the dimmed lights, easy listening on the stereo, and drinking the most putrid cappuccino I have ever had the misfortune of consuming. What fresh hell is this?

Living in technicolor

W Korea

Family Ties

Emmanuelle Alt from Paris Vogue gives us androgyny at its best

SPOTTED: Karl Lagerfeld browsing magazines at Colette

+

=
the only place I want to be on a Monday night.

I said a grand total of 3 grammatically flawed French sentences to the man but I don't really care. This was the ULTIMATE CELEBRITY SIGHTING! Thank god I live in the first arrond.

W?HA!!!T? the F*&%#$^?

Living in Paris you are constantly reminded that this is a city where intellect and wit are revered and ignorance and unawareness is considered offensive. Exhibiting any form of scholarly inferiority is all you need to do to insult delicate French sensibilities. I’ve taking to reading Le Monde (a hyper political French version of the New York Times and unofficial religious text of the Sciences Po student body) on my way to school. If only to stop myself from having THIS particular look in the middle of conversations....


Do you know who the frontrunners are to be France's next finance minister?

I don't.

But I will by the time I finish reading today's paper.

NY I miss you

This movie is destined to be wonderful.
NY is the only city that can almost rival my love for Paris.

(Also, please appreciate the Phoenix continuity)

From the mess to the masses

Two very lovely McGill ladies came to play this weekend. My mtl girls Jess and Laurel popped into Paris for a special concert and a very special birthday.

Glad they came, sad they left. Come back soon my loves.

Chairlift
Phoenix
Love you both
Looking good birthday girl

Le Baron

+1
Beauty
Busy P

courtyard at Hotel AmourYears abroad were made for nights like these.

(Note: All photo cred must be given to my + 1 for the evening, Mark (aka the Cobra Snake). If you don't know his blog already, start following. He's a wonderful photographer and a really great concert date as well!)

Not impressed

Filippa Palmestierna Hamilton, the French born model, was recently fired by Ralph Lauren for being "too fat." The size 4 model has been the brand's muse for the past 8 years. She's five feet ten and weighs 120 pounds.

Shame on you Ralph.

She's beautiful and I dare anyone to disagree.