From Kaysi : Garance!!! Do you have any advice for creating a minimalist, functional, and fabulous wardrobe?

Mmmm… Kaysi, even if I dream of having a minimalist, functional, and fabulous wardrobe, most mornings I find myself buried under a mountain of clothes – outfits literally falling on top of me – I can never find anything and everything’s lost.

I usually just end up wearing the last thing I bought (right now, a pair of grey jeans and Fratelli Rossetti shoes) just because they’re on top of the pile.

That said, I could never dare to imagine just how happy I would be if every time I opened my closet, I found the following clothes, folded neatly and organized by color:

• Black cashmere turtlenecks. I still haven’t found the perfect one.
• Grey v-neck cashmere sweaters – Bompard makes the deepest Vs – I just love them.
• Silk shirts from Equipment, of course.
• Church’s flats. Three pairs.
• One pair of sublime very high heels, black, like the Pigalles by Louboutin – Yeah, only one! If they’re that sublime, they’ll be enough!
• Grey skinny jeans. White skinny jeans. Helmut Lang, the denim is the thinnest I’ve ever felt.
• One pair of boyfriend jeans.
• Two blazers, one black, the other marine blue. Stella.
• A straight-cut skirt, Céline.
• A Sarti scarf, light as a cloud. I’ll take a quick picture for you as I’m wearing one right now.
• A dress, Alaïa or Roland Mouret. Never goes out of style.
• A big coat, camel or grey.
• And a military parka – light and long.

And I’d go wild with accessories. A hat. Red socks. A pair of amazing sunglasses. A purse to die for. Bright nail-polish. Cause minimalistic is good but still, some girls are just born with glitter in their veins… ;-)

Don’t you think ?

Ok, so that was my version of functional and fabulous… What is yours ?

Translation : Tim Sullivan

Shot in Venice where I met her, a detail from Aurélie Bidermann‘s outfit, dress from Prada, little Alaïa pouch (the one that comes with the ballerinas, isn’t that chic ?) and her own beautiful jewelry. I love the mix of the gold with the braid…

Hey! I’m in for a quick stopover in New York after a few days in Arizona, and guess what? SPRING HAS ARRIVED!

The trees are all heavy with flowers! The birds are singing their little hearts out! Girls are wearing light dresses! I feel like tossing all my winter clothes out the window! Especially my tights! Time to lose 5 pounds! No, how ’bout 10!!! And party until the wee small hours! Cut my hair (?)! Go surfing(??) ! Buy myself an iPad (???) ! Adopt a doggy! Get my garden ready! Even if I don’t have one!

But tonight, I’m heading back to Paris.

Okay Paris, listen up and listen well. I love you. But I don’t want to hear it about this whole gray skies thing, OK?

Okay, off to JFK!!! Big hugs and I’ll see you super soon!

… Yes, I know…

…. This was my usual stupid springtime post. Nonsensical and smug, as always. Sorry ’bout that. It’s just that every year I get all giddy and it always happens! I love it. And don’t miss the chance to admire Stevie’s vintage Alaia dress in the first photo… Okay, if I keep going, I’m going to miss my plane. Let’s go! Big hugs!

Hey guess what, guess what!?  Discovery of the year: the women behind the scenes of style are just like us! Isn’t that the scoop to end all scoops?! Yeah, I know, I know, no need to thank me. Okay, so yeah, the real fact is that the recession has hit hard and no one is playing games anymore. But I was totally excited to learn that…

- They like to feel comfy. Big pants, long skirts, cotton sweatshirts, even the very body-con dresses we talked about last Friday are unbelievably comfortable. Fit the body well without constraining it… Even if it’s not on the catwalk, the spirit of Alaïa is definitely there.

- They kill themselves in the morning figuring out what to wear. And getting their photo taken in front of the runway shows totally stresses them out. Haha.

- They don’t have plastic feet. Even, sometimes, their feet hurt. Yeah. A friend in a pair of studded Louboutin Pigalle (the highest, most pointy, most surreal, and most beautiful of all stilettos) told me that she only wears them on days when she knows she’ll be at a max of 2 shows. And don’t forget, that’s with special soles and a bunch of band-aids. Her 2.55 was filled with them! Ouuuch!

- They don’t hesitate anymore to bring out the it-stuff from past years. A YSL bag from last year, in the end, doesn’t have a wrinkle on it. Tributes, big Lanvin jewelry, a pair of Spicy by Vuitton… A good excuse to reinvent their “old stuff.”  The only thing that has disappeared are the famous Balmain jackets from last year. Too much exposure? Tough to say. But I won’t be surprised if they make their comeback next year.

- They make babies. I love a pregnant fashionistas! There are a whole bunch all over the place and I can’t wait to show some of them to you!

- They shop at H&M, Zara and Topshop. The little Zara jackets with the padded shoulders are on everyone’s back and the Christopher Kane collection for Topshop got real hot: really, everything that I’ve seen of it is just so good that I can’t believe I didn’t have a second in London to go try it all on.

- They know how to be timeless. And we’re hitting an overdose on the 2.55. Unless it’s a special one: if it’s vintage, or tagged by a friend. Or if it’s green, blue, or red.

- When their luggage gets lost, they too, cry.

- They buy one or two super trendy accessories and never hesitate to wear them in a whole bunch of ways. Main choices this season: thigh-high boots, a bucket bag, or anything with studs.

Okay, but I still haven’t figured out the mystery of their perfect hair, their radiant skin after three weeks of marathons (I have to tell you about the real day of a stylist during fashion week. Really though, fashion is a career for the passionate.) and how they figure out, on top of all that, how to go to parties. I went to one on Saturday. I let myself lose a little. The result: I’m sick. Seriously now, how do they do it?

But after all, it’s not bad to leave a little mystery, don’t ya think? Okay, off we go. Mrs. Doré wishes you a nice day!

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PS: Thanks to all who came out Saturday at Colette. I was so happy to meet all of you. You’re all so beautiful! Thank you for coming and for being so patient and friendly. And thank you to my teen friend as well, who waited just to tell me, “I really have no idea who you are, but when I see people lining up, it means it must be something to have your autograph. Could you sign there, please?” Hmmmm… My dear, I don’t know if you googled me and are now reading me, but thank you. You cracked me up!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

A few days from now, I’ll be a personal shopper. The Printemps, a famous department store in Paris, invited me to be their personal shopper for a day. Immediately, I said yes. It’s the kind of job I’ve always dreamt of.

I always told myself that one day I would be a therapist. I don’t know why, but there are some jobs that I imagine being the delightful fruits of maturity**.

But I met fashion on my way. And this is why…

To me, a good personal shopper would be like a good style therapist***. Someone that would help without judgement, who would be realistic and creative and who would discretely lead her client on the way to her inner style.

On the other hand, I totally picture the decadent chick lit trip****, hysterical on 5th Avenue with 250 shopping bags full to the brim. Yiiiiiiihhi ! In total transference to my client, I would make her buy the last Alaïa thigh high boots*****, shouting about how gorgeous it all was.

Well… Let’s say I’m sure this is going to be an interesting experience!

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* Well, ever since the day I learned it existed. I mean, a job like this, how exactly can you conceptualise it? It’s not like personal shoppers were running around the streets in Ajaccio where I grew up! And just to remind you, I was told in my youth that I should be a taxidermist! Ewww!

** That’s why the first time I met my therapist, I told her “NO WAY, this is never going to work, YOU ARE WAY TOO YOUNG !!! She told me “humm…?” Since then, she’s become my guru.

*** But way more expensive…

**** These last few days it’s like I tend to imagine ALL my life as a decadent chick lit trip. That’s why I’m here, half-sleeping, writing from my couch at biiiiiiip* in the morning.

***** OMG I want them. I feel I need to talk about it to my therapist. Monday. 3.30pm.

****** Nothing, just to give you a kiss ! Kiss ! Kiss !

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* Ok, actually it’s just 9pm, but biiiiip sounds much better don’t you think ? It’s like more… Interesting ? Feels like the girl who has a life ? No ? Am I right here ?

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Translation : MYSELF !

Yes, you have felt it. Tim wasn’t available today (yes, HE has a life !) So I made my translation myself. Oh my god ! So sorry for all the mistakes. I’m just a little french girl after all (see how I am trying to win your heart) (huumm.. ?)… Have a good day !

I’m developing a scandalously late obsession for leopard prints.

So here’s an example: right now, I’m in London, NOT AT ALL to go shopping (it’s not that there’s a lack of desire, but DO I REALLY NEED TO SAY THAT?) and I walked passed TopShop. I took a deep breath just to fill my lungs with that air, polluted by consumption, that I love so very much. I’M NOT HERE TO GO SHOPPING, SO (breathe, Garance, breathe) but I did manage to find my way to the back of a vintage boutique trying to get my feet into a pair of leopard Alaïa heels in a size 38, a size that I might have been able to fit into for a month between the ages of 11 and 11 and a quarter. They had a perfectly acceptable price (250€! Alaïa! It’s a gift!) (oh come on), and then I found a pair of leopard print pants as well, in a size 36 small, which I maybe could have squeezed into during the heat wave in 2003.

You can’t put vintage Alaïa in the display window, it’s an attack on shopping-prudishness. It’s just mean.

Hum… I think if you read the paragraph up top, you’ll understand just how much this print makes me hysterical.

Therefore, I’m giving you a break, just a quick second now, before I tell you this next thing…

BECAUSE LISTEN, the MIXING of leopard prints is even stronger than Alaïa. THE MIXING of leopard prints.  THE MIXING OF LEOPARD PRINTS! The mixing. Of leopard. Prints.

I mean like… whoa.

Am I right?

Translation : Tim Sullivan

-The Sydneysiders (Yeah!  That’s what you call people from Sydney), bon, the girl Sydneysiders are crazy about heels.  No, but seriously, crazy about ‘em.  Oh, yeah, the Parisians?  Mere mortals in this game!  It almost makes me want to go back to flats.  Seriously, I’m irked.

-Okay, enough, I switched to the soy latte.  That sounds healthy, no?  Pfff, I don’t believe it for a second.  It’s entirely too good!  I get the impression that I am going to gain another 200 pounds.  Do something, I beg you.

-Take a good look at these photos.  Are you like me?  Do you feel the ambiant warmth, the light, the desire for a grain of passion, all that?  Bon.  And so okay, Australians, here, as you can see in the photos, (Max, he’s got a pink sweater and he is Australian.  Mais… Est-il libre, Max?  Roooooh, that joke is so inappropriate, Tim, please, don’t even try to translate that.  There are some things that only the little Frenchies will understand.) but they’re not happy at all, no contentment here, nope.  They’re constantly apologizing, all day long they’re like this, “We’re so sorry, it’s freeeeeeeeeeezing.”  No but seriously c’mon.  Children.  A little bit of modesty please.

-Seeing as, well here, brace yourself, it’s the fourth dimension, seeing as this fashion week is presenting the spring/summer collection 2010, so it’s as if we’re battling off the cold January winds.

- So the question becomes : in 2010, are we going to bring out our bathing suits at the beach to do a little tanning?  Alors?  Alors?  

-Cafés here are a little like cafés in New York.  Beautiful places, well-lighted with a lot of warmth, a place where you can lose a few hours reading a paperback.  If I had time, I can’t even tell you how good that would be.

-Life goal of the week?  Go back to Bondi Beach and see some surfers.  Ouais, and see some kangaroos, that’s settled.  I’m going to listen to you all and go take a trip to the zoo.

-At Tusk, in Melbourne, I ate the greatest coconut calamari of my life.  And they had the most sublime wall hanging of a sunset.  I forgot to take a picture of it.  Merde.  Gotta go back, no choice.  

- Don’t you go thinking that Australians wear tons of color.  Not at all!  I’m giving you a completely distorted image of reality (But I like it!) : they love black, and the stores are full of it.  But from time to time, you find some beautiful exceptions…  Like Linlee here above who loves a little chaos : the vintage Alaïa, the double expressos, and then putting a whole bunch of colors in her hair.  

Allez off we go, I’m heading out.  It’s time for my soy latte.  (NoooOOOoon Garance!!! Don’t do it!  Please noooOOOoon don’t fall into the trap of the evil soy latteEEEeeeee!!!) Big hugs to you all!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

Okay, so the skies of Paris decided I needed to regret every time I left the house in a springy outfit, the rain decided to test my nerves a bit, and so screw ‘em: I got my winter clothes back out.

As the essentials are not around, I concentrate on the accessories.

… The shoes!!!

It’s the only thing that gets me through the day right now.  I do the same thing Julia and Vanessa do here.  I slip on something black… Often my Mango jumpsuit, if you’d like to know… My jumpsuit that I just won’t ever take off seeing as it fixes any and all miss-matches, and even if it worries me a little, will I spend the rest of my life in a combi as it’s just so comfortable, it’s just so classy, it’s just so easy to wear, and it just makes me so pretty?

Okay, I got a little sidetracked just there… I slip on something black and pair of heels that stand out.

What?  Mais bien sûr the color of nude and natural leather stand out.

Okay, and now, you’re going to ask me THE question.  I know it.  You’re going to ask it… Okay, go ahead, Just ask it!

THE question: So what do you do when it rains all over your beautiful stand-out nude shoes?

Hmmmm.  Okay.

I RUIN THEM.  Yeah, so I ruined my favorite pair of Célines.  But seriously, stupid stuff.  Now I know: I am not waterproof.  Nothing I have can survive in the rain.  Neither my hair nor my smokey eyes, and definitely not my shoes.  And then again, not my smokey eyes when I am mourning my shoes.

So it’s settled.  I’m not leaving until I see a endless big blue sky.  Got that, Paris sky?

Translation : Tim Sullivan

Mira’s style goes with her imagination.  While I’m busy spending my time trying to find my fashion identity, looking to define what’s me, what works well, what doesn’t, what flatters, what fails, and figuring out how I am going to be able to budget in these studded Alaïa ankle boots, while I’m doing all that, Mira is reinventing herself every day. 

And everyday you see only her.

When I think of women with a style that has left its mark on me, like Lauren Hutton, Lauren Bacall or even more recently, someone like Giovanna Battaglia, it’s not the clothes themselves that draw me to them.

It’s the way of experiencing life.  To find their comfort in being, whether it be in high heels or in a pair of derbies, with a small clutch bag or a giant tote.  But it’s definitely a posture, a smile, a look, a way of having their hands in their pockets, an allure that says that they is completely there, in all their glory and their contradictions.  And that they is totally themselves and no one else.  

Translation : Tim Padraic Sullivan

11.  It’s no use, I am no party girl.  When I party, I party too hard, but most of the time, I come back home early and make myself a rum toddy.  Oh yeah, am I cool or what?

12.  I want to learn how to do up my hair in a whole bunch of different ways.  I want to be able to stylize my own hair.

13.  Suzy Menkes is the most incredible person for her passion for fashion and her passion for her job.  Suzy Menkes is amazing and will work on her laptop between shows, in her car, on the steps of a building… in the middle of the street.  I wanted to sit next to her and bathe in the sun of her science, but i wouldn’t dare.

14.  My credit card doesn’t work at Urban Outfitters.  Everywhere else, yes.  But not at Urban Outfitters.

15.  I’m having lunch with Yasmin and she says to me that she is no party girl.  Suddenly, I feel a lot cooler with my rum toddy.

16.  I run into Vanessa at Dover Street Market in a room full of the most sublime shoes, each pair more so than the one before, and she is holding on tight to a gorgeous vase from the 30′s.    It’s enough to make you want to buy some furniture.  Then I think back to my apartment and I’ll raincheck the idea for now.

17.  Today, I’m on my way to LIberty.  And to V&A.  And to Urban Outfitters.  Yep, bringing some cash.  And I’m going to Twenty8Twelve.  I’m going to Feathers.  On my way to Topshop.  I’m heading over to…  Wait, no…  Today, I’m leaving.  Crap.

18.  People wear a lot of black.  This bugs the hell out of me.  But often enough, my camera makes a stand, and I’m totally in.

19.  I’m wanting some lace.   I see some in the Dover Street basement.  I swoon, look at the price, and quickly faint.  950£. Crap!

20.  This is going to be the last fur-hat post of the year on this blog.  Fur-hat, I love you, but i mean c’mon with this cold.  Allez.  Goodbye Winter!  Goodbye Cupcakes!  Goodbye London!

Buongiorno, Milano!

Translation : Tim Padraic Sullivan