Pamela Love is a New Yorker. I don’t know a whole lot about her, except for the fact the she lives in Brooklyn, where I saw her riding her bike, that girls scream when they see her jewelry, and that everybody really wants me to meet her.

I wanted to make a quick visit to her presentation before meeting a friend for dinner. Everything was so crazy and super trendy that I almost stopped right there, but I decided to brave it and check out Pamela’s creations.

In a tiny room, little tents were put up. Inside each one, the jewelry was presented like in a cabinet of curiosities. Each one seemed to have its own story. In front, some hairy hippi kids I mistook for Devendra Banhart like four times, were playing in an awesomely messy music space. Some of Pamela’s other friends had some stuff up as well, some drawings, jewelry… Actually, it was total peace and love.

Simply awesome.

So here’s what I learned at Pamela Love’s presentation :

- Creating an atmosphere is an art. I don’t know how much time it took to put everything together and make all the little scenes, but the result of it all was just too cool.

- Olivier Zahm gets out of bed at 8 p.m. This guy is simply fascinating. Oh, and I love his watch.

- A simple presentation can be a party. As long as it makes people happy and brings them together, it’ll give a feeling… And then you’ll always come back to the jewelry.

- Genevieve Jones was a little afraid her top looks too much like a drape, and that gave her a good laugh. This is a Viktor & Rolf top. I remember that collection was weird, in a way. But it totally goes with the atmosphere, am I right?

- This I already knew: You can never have too many people at a party. Sometimes it gets way too hot, but you can never have too many people. Come on Monday 5PM to drink some champagne with me in London.

- If you don’t know what to wear to a party, don’t hesitate to go fishing in a friend’s closet, especially when that friend is Pamela Love.

- If you look super cute, quietly having a drink with friends and then suddenly a Garance comes and tells you to pretend like you’re reading a book on a big chair just because she thinks it a great idea, you have every right to say no. But you also have every right to think the concept is wonderful and, like Sarah, cry out : awesome!

- There is a real science that exists today of the torn-up t-shirt.

- Having a dog that looks like a wet Gremlin can bring out some of your prodigious beauty.

- It’s awesome to surround yourself. Surround yourself with people you love, you admire and share. Pamela isn’t afraid that her friends’ creations will over shadow her own, nor to create some synergies, and to mix everything together. So even if I still don’t really know her, I already really like Pamela.

And with that, I’m off to bed. Big hugs! Bonne journée!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

It was a good three years ago now. Like everyday, I was looking at his photos. I’d never met him. That day though, looking at one of the shots, I wanted to be behind his shoulder.

He communicated something about fashion that no one had to me before. For me, his photos were like a dream made out of reality. With him, fashion was an affair of grace and moment, then with something hidden in the bright light, the gaze of a child.

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“OH YES!!!”

That’s exactly what I said when Georgie McCourt asked me to do a feature for Australian Vogue. The idea was to take two pages and cover them with a mix of illustrations, photos and texts to give my vision of fashion in Australia.  I love collages like this.  And I also love when I get this much freedom to express myself. It’s a rare gift that I savor each time. So I had a lot of fun with it and fast forward to now and voilà! It’s finally out!

If you read me often, you know how much I loved my trip. The fact that one of the country’s most beautiful magazines has given me the opportunity to once again say how much I looooooved my time there, it’s just so great!

And it gives me the chance to come back to a subject that I didn’t get to talk about much when I was there. I was thinking a lot less about it back then as opposed to now when the thermometer just keeps going up and up, but here…

Beach style! Swimsuits! Australians go the beach all year round and so for them, it’s a real culture and the swimsuits have found their way into all the runway shows. That’s how I saw swimwear from a brand I only found out about at Aussie fashion week.

They’re called Zimmermann and their collection of swimsuits I just couldn’t believe. They were just as beautiful as cocktail dresses (check out the photo above, drawing on top). It brought back my desire to wear one-pieces. If you would have told me that a few months back, no way I would’ve believed you.

But hey, when I was there, didn’t see too many one-pieces on the beach, ha! And just for full disclosure, I haven’t figured out WHATSOEVER what I’ll be wearing on the beach this summer.

Probably just like every other year, I won’t be able to find anything and then, depressed, I’ll tell myself that I’ll find something later and then in the end, I’ll buy whatever I can find at the beach shop for ten-times what I should’ve paid and three sizes too big three minutes before jumping in the water.

So if for no other reason, I have to go back to Australia to 1/ see if the one-piece trend caught on, 2/ buy some Zimmermann suits, and 3/ go give big hugs to everyone over at Vogue! Yep. Definitely essential.

Thank you to Clarice for the pictures of the magazine. You can also see more of them on her blog. And a big thank you as well to my dear Tim, my friend and ally who’s lost in the depths of the U.S., still helping me every day to put my words into English.

Big hugs! Bonne journée! If you happen to see the perfect bathing suit somewhere, give me the tip, deal? What do you think, to one-piece or not to one-piece?

And here is actually THE question… With a one-piece, do you have to roll it down to tan?

Translation : Tim Sullivan

Last week, I went on over to Nylon magazine for an interview.  After a rather surrealist 15 minutes where every door I was about to open had a little sign that said, “No, Nylon isn’t here, go further down!” I finally got to the place where these two lively Shar-Peis welcomed me with open… paws?

I knew right away this whole experience would put a smile on my face.

I like Nylon a lot.  The magazine’s freshness, its freedom, its layout, its energy, and I found all that in the offices.  There is light, color, two dogs, and outits everywhere you look.  The team is young, the paper and internet editors are all interspersed, you can dress however you want, everyone works on these giant wooden desks… So in short, it’s awesome.

And I hadn’t planned on taking any photos, and hadn’t told anyone I’d have my camera.  But that didn’t seem to bother anyone.  Everyone told me to feel at home and take as much time as I wanted.

Even Dani, one of the magazine’s it-girls, who was showing me a good time with her larger-than-life persona said, “Nooooo.  You’re sure you want to take a shot of me right now looking like this?  No makeup? WHAT?  Take off my sunglasses?  Okay, whatever.  Hmmm.  Hold on, I’m just going to grab a jacket really quick because… Look at this one, not bad, look, whad’ya think?  You want a shot of the shoes?  Yeaaah, and hold up, oh look, did you see my bag?!?!  No no no no, not my desk, you’re CRAZY.  It’s such a mess!!!”

And there you go!!!  Here’s why I felt completely at home over at Nylon!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

——

And as I promised to keep you updated : Here are the pictures of the Women of Fashion party ! You can take a look at the dress, and even see a few of my accessories that I really have to talk to you about… Soon !

Ok, enough with socialite mode, I’m back in Paris. Have a great day !

It all started because of my Marant jogging pants which have now become an international catastrophe. From Paris to New York, seven hours on Air France’s seat 456A stuck between two babies slobbering all over me, I still haven’t taken them off, and all my friends are saying I look cooler than cool and so I’m really never going to take them off.  I’m blissful in my comfort and the cool attitude that comes with ‘em.  And what was my life goal?  Be cool, not a fool!

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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 am so madly overwhelmed with joy to announce this that I just don’t know where to start.

My bags are not at all packed as I partied a little too hard last night and I’m totally falling apart but at the same time, furiously overexcited because in a few hours I take off for… Okay, so you got it before, ahhhh!!!

Australia!

Yaahaaaa!  It’s like a dream come true.  I’ve never set foot on the island and I don’t even think I’ve gone on a trip this long.  I’ll be down under with Scott.  We’re doing Melbourne, Sydney, meeting lots of people but most of all, attending the fashion week… So I hope to take a whole bunch of pictures and tell you all lots of stories.

Voilà, nothing more.  I’m all joyed up to the brim.  I’m not sure when I am going to post again, tomorrow, after tomorrow, maybe in Singapore where I have my layover, who knows?

Yep!  Oh oh and if you know of any places, stuff to do, people or incredible things I can’t miss over there, tell me, I am oh-so-curious.  In any case, big hugs to all and and I can’t wait to see you all back here as quick as possible I hope!

Bonne journée!  And long live exclamation points!!!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

“What?  You’re going to Saturday Night Live!  You’re going for Phoenix.  Wow.  That’s so mythic!”

So this all was just a little stroke of luck for me, an invitation thrown out there between a couple glasses of wine and a Dalida song.  Pierre has to follow the group around for les Inrocks magazine.  We’ll be in New York at the same time.  Why not?

It wasn’t until I got to Rockefeller Center Saturday afternoon that I quite understood just how phenomenal this was.  As soon as you get to the 8th floor, you’re not entering into a television studio, no, you’re entering into legend.

Everything’s mythic.  From the stage to the dressing rooms, all the way to the toilets, or to a few hours later when I found myself face to face with Ed Norton.

Le big hug by Phoenix

I don’t think I could ever quite grasp the vertigo that the guys in Phoenix must feel.  This is SNL, this is one of the biggest things that could happen to a band.  More than ten million viewers at home, America right in front of you, a dream à la Johnny Hallyday*, but actually come true.

So when I get there with Pierre, we’re just like kids.  And there we were, exploring in every direction to see everything we could.  The studio, the costumes, the actors, the crüe, the dining hall.  Crazy world, tiny little studios and apparently no one in charge directing all this.  Just the feeling of a well oiled machine, smiling, more proud than anything and happy as can be to be working there.

As for Phoenix?  Hmm…. Simple as this: after 10 minutes, I got the impression I was part of the band.  These guys are such angels.

It wasn’t until the moment came, glass in one hand, cookie in the other, totally at ease with life and joking around with I don’t know who, that I saw Thomas starting to take of his t-shirt that I thought that maybe, just maybe, I was in a little too far.

Over in the dressing rooms, it’s gets a little surrealist on me.  It’s like a hive.  Mostly everyone is running around working.  Everyone else is there for the party.  You know, all the others… the others like… Edward Norton.  Oh my god, Edward Harrison Norton.  I’m going to have a heart-attack.  Okay, turn around… Breathe.

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