Seeing as this week I decided to put red here everyday (don’t ask me why)(I’ll talk to my therapist about it ASAP)(And of course, I’ll tell you all about it) I thought it would be good to finish the week off with a soft touch of red, nice and a clean, peachy keen, and just serene!

And real quick, I’ll tell you that I’m doing quite fine, seeing as I am in New York, where it is pouring rain, and here I am waiting for my flight to Phoenix, Arizona, where the weather is as perfect as can be.

On top of that, and just to celebrate the weather-to-be, I ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio sitting here all alone in Terminal 5, and… well… I’m having trouble putting three words together seeing as I can’t hold my liquor at all.

Ah Garance! You’re such a bad example for the kids, no seriously!  Shame on you!

Off we go.  I send you all big hugs and I send you all big hugs! What just happened? Now I’m repeating the same thing twice… just great.  Oh lordy lordy.  I’m better off just waiting for my flight?  Yeah, okay, you’re right.  Alright then, I’ll see you all soon!  I dream of Arizonaaaaaaa!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

All sunglasses look good on me. I’m serious. You can test me on this if you want. All of them, no exceptions.

When I try out a pair of sunglasses, this is what I get all the time, “Oh! Mademoiselle! It’s amazing how great those look on you.” To that, I raise a proud eyebrow and say:

“Okay, so I’m just going to stop you right there: all sun glasses look good on me. Can we quit with the praises of my perfect little oval please and concentrate a little more on the model here. Tell me: you got anything new?

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Voilà everything I could want right now : a little red, a little white, my hair just right, my wicker bag at my side and sandals, flats, to take my strides. Make ‘em in animal skin and I’m a happy girl. I found a pair yesterday at Zara in red python and I don’t think I’ll ever take them off. I couldn’t really deal anymore with my gladiators worn-by-anyone-and-everyone.

To sum up, I want to be classic, you know?  Like Audrey Tautou in the new Chanel 5 ad (I love the style!) – Amélie Poulain + a little zest and rock’n roll x the sensuality of Roxane Mesquida = the square root of me.

My little style equation is good, no?  Mais voilà!  And why couldn’t they just have taught me math that way?

Translation : Tim Sullivan

I’m the opposite of a hands-on girl.  Changing a lightbulb already takes me at least a year and I’ve had a set of shelves from Ikea that’s been waiting in the middle of the room for a very well meaning soul to come put it up for me.  Oh and I should say, the well meaning soul needs to think ahead and bring a drill over to my house that I will have undoubtedly never asked him to bring, and hey, who knows, this could all happen in 2014 or so, what do you think?

Returning to the subject of the day because yes, there is one indeed.

My subject of the day is that yesterday, I came across this photo (first image, up top) I took in NYC last season (in fashion vocab: an eternity ago), and it made something go off in the do-it-yourself lobe of my brain.

My jacket! The leather one! The slightly bizarre red one (in fashion vocab: completely out of style) I found bargain hunting 3 years ago (in fashion vocab: the last ice age) that I never wore!!!  Mais voilà! I’m gettin’ rid of the sleeves!

And here’s how in no more than THREE MINUTES (because any longer the jacket would have been stuck right there in the middle of the floor with the Ikea shelves) I cut off the sleeves of my vintage jacket  and how I put together my own little it-jacket just for me.

Leather is perfect: if you cut it with scissors, you get a nice unfinished edge, translation into fashion vocab: total designer piece.  A beautiful result, Garance is content with herself, smiles all around.  She passes a fine afternoon alone with her red sleeveless jacket, strutting her stuff down the street.

All that for THREE MINUTES of work.  Now that’s what I call the beginning of a new vocation.  We gotta start a new realty show.  Susan Boyle, beware!

Look out for the next lighting strike of a DIY attack when I make this Chanel t-shirt in TWO MINUTES FLAT.  I don’t know why I like it, but I like it.  Think of it this way:

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“I think I’ve got a dress for you,” Carole said to me. “My Balmain, you know it?”

“Carole. Ahem. You remember the last time when I tried on that little leather Balmain jacket, you remember how we almost died laughing? No, these things just aren’t cut for me. I love you to death!!! But no.”

“I’m not so sure about that.  I’ve been looking at the dress and I think it could work on you.”

Merde. Life can be so cool! You don’t really know what to wear to a wedding, and then you have a friend who comes along and asks you to wear her Balmain dress.  Just like in Sex & the City except for… well, no, it’s absolutely like in Sex & the City. And on top of that, you get to your hotel room, and then she asks you to go get a private manicure on an open balcony from the most adorable girl who takes care of, among others, Kate Moss’s nails.  And she knows by heart the nails of each and every celebrity.  Raaaah!  It’s a tough life but someone’s got to do it!!! Okay, maybe not so much, but you gotta love the idea.

And the worst is this: Carole, she’s a pro.  She’s got an eye for these things.

The dress.  I tried it on yesterday.

Wow.

I want to spend my entire life in a Balmain dress. Voilà. It’s decided.

Off we go! Long live dresses!  Long life friends! And long live the bride-to-be!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

One of the many many problems in my overly complicated life is the following: everyday, to get home, I have to pass by the windows of the Isabel Marant boutique.

And all too often, despite my avoidance strategies that are as Machiavellian as they are resourceful (a call to my accountant, a trip to the bakery for some deliciously oozing pastry, a moonwalk), in the end, I always pass by the door.

So often I run into Olivia.  Olivia knows how to wear Isabel.  And I am perfectly capable of resisting clothes on hangers, perfectly capable of taking a look at them and feeling the fabric without even really considering it, but to put something like this right in front of my face, something worn so well that it just promises sexy comfort, well, it’s just plain cruel.

And especially when the promise of sexy comfort in question comes right after I have just stuffed my face with an oozing pastry as quickly as possible to be able to walk into the shop because hey, just a quick look, only be two seconds.

Ah, the tricks, traps and vicissitudes of modern life… I love my new pants!

Bonne journée!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

Swimsuit Alex Wang, glasses Cutler & Gross

We were all seated in candlelight, close together, shoulders touching, eyes wide open, hanging on every word of our dear bachelorette’s lips whom we had forced to tell us her entire love story from the beginning with not a detail missing.

The tension was palpable. We were just getting to the meaty part of the story, if you know what I mean, the suspense and the romance were so thick, you could have cut them with a knife. In our hearts, violins were soaring… Well, okay, at least I imagine so.

Géraldine says, “My heart was beating so fast. I was trembling. The tension was unimaginable… But I was so happy because I knew he was the guy. We left the restaurant and right then and there, rain. An unbelievable storm, and I didn’t know what to think anymore. It was good, it was, but I was lost, because…”

And right then, and I swear this happened!!! A good dozen or so voices yell out in chorus:

“…because you were afraid of the frizzies!”

Géraldine was aghast, and then everyone just burst into laughter.

No but really, girls, sometimes we really are something.

Translation : Tim Sullivan

Oh my god! Yes, my god. My ACTUAL god. One of my gods drew me! Well, okay, he drew us.

The Unknown Hipster is a spankin’ new blog done by one of the least unknown hipsters that exists. Go take a look and you’ll recognize him right away. Yeah, really, go ahead, take a quick break and click here. But come back now, let’s not get carried away.

So, you figure out who it is?

AND DID YOU SEE WHAT I SAW?

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