Barcelona always makes me euphoric*. It’s got to be the mediterranean sun, the weather, the architecture**… Every time I’m there, I spend hours just walking, eyes in the sky and a blissfully large smile***. Of course, it’s got something to do with the people.

Picture this:

I ran into Alexandra and right away, fell in love with her jean shirt and took her picture.

Then we were off to go have a coffee, and get this, in the middle of the café, she pulls off her jean shirt**** and she says it would be her pleasure to give it to me. And well, I said yes!

And now, as I’m writing you, I’m at my apartment in Paris, looking through my pictures from Barcelona (I’m warning you, you’re missing out on my terrible architecture photos, and my amazing pictures of food, and don’t even ask for ‘em because I’ll publish them!!!*****) and I’m wearing Alexandra’s shirt and telling myself that this is the last time I go 10 years without going to Barcelona.

This town is like its people: a true gem!

READ MORE

Last time I was at the flea market looking for Farrah Fawcett posters, I came across a booth stock full of the craziest pairs of shorts.

They had every size and color you could imagine, all for 10 bucks and I bought ‘em all up (that’s totally why my wardrobe fell over on my face, but that’s a whole other story). I was sure all my friends would each love a pair.

READ MORE

It’s true that between the dream dress, the perfect pumps, the ideal jean jacket, and the small last minute miracle of a stylist friend with a Louboutin panther skin clutch bag and an extra set of glazed wooden Vuitton bracelets, all together, it was about as classy as you can get.

Yep, all that just to cover up with the camera, not the most clever thing I’ve ever done.

So there I was in the grandeur of the New York Palace, taking a stroll around and getting pictures of everything I could get my eyes on, when in bathroom number 4, I come across a creature you could only dream up, wearing a dress you could only dream up, with a bright smile of pearly whites just screaming with publicity.  I say hello.

READ MORE

Australia, such an amazing trip!  I really get the impression I’m walking upside down.  It’s autumn here, you know?  Like starting a cycle again that has already finished.  And then there’s this incredible jet-lag, and the trip itself, so far, so long, and as much as we try to always stay connected, we have to leave a little of ourselves in the air.  In the end, really, it does us some good.

I left on Tuesday, landed on Thursday, and then gave myself a couple more days to find my bearings, eyes wide open to everything going on around me.  The streets of Melbourne, straight out of a film, the old cars that make you forget what time period you’re in.  The sleepless nights, touching base and reconnecting with everyone listening to the wind in the trees.  And the outfits…  A city center with no Zara, no H&M.  And tons of designers I’ve never heard of.

Like Willow, for example (above photo) or like Jade (first photo), the designer for  Arnsdorf, whom I met this weekend.

Jade struck with me with her totally relaxed way she talked to me about her work.  Merde, so young, with her own brand, soon to be sold all the way in Europe and her own shows… How do you do it?  With all this going on, you can still stay so chill?”

…Yes.  Why?

I have a weakness for this smiling simplicity.  I think I have a weakness for Australia in general.

Yesterday, we got into Sydney.  Endless sunshine, the precious beauty of the city, of the vegetation.  The majestic opera on the waterfront, just in front of me now as I write to you, (but seriously, it’s beautiful!), the blond surfers, and the incredible warmth in the faces of everyone you meet.  The exotic birds.  The boats.  It was so beautiful we were forced to down a bottle of white just to celebrate.  What?  I haven’t talked to you about Australian wine yet?

Thank you so much for your enthusiasm and for all of your great ideas.  I have so many things to show you and so many stories to tell you that today, I really just didn’t know where to start, so I started simple.

Or how do they say it here?  Easy?  Hmmm…..

All right!  I’ll see you tomorrow!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

There are certain details that transcend simple fashion. The tendency, and I don’t know what you think about this, but it often startles me. Each piece of clothing tells a precise story, comprehensible, legible by people like me.

READ MORE

… La veste en jean de mes 15 ans ?

C’est la question que se posent à peu près toutes mes copines. Et Lauren confirme, elle a tout simplement ressorti sa Levi’s du lycée, et c’est trop parfait.

Le denim porté en haut revient, en chemise ou en petite veste. Vous vous souvenez ? Je vous en avais parlé ici.

Ma Levi’s, je l’avais usée jusqu’à la corde puis jetée sans un regard un jour de grand ménage vertical. Me voilà donc réduite à courir les friperies pour en retrouver une. Et ce n’est pas une quête facile : neuve, elle est trop neuve; années 80, ce qu’on trouve le plus en friperie, elle est trop bouffante, et puis pour le reste, les couleurs de jeans, vous savez ce que c’est, tout est dans la nuance…

Mais je la trouverai, ahah ! (<— cri de guerre)

Et sinon, notez le pantalon, un Peter Bertsch. Peter Bertsch, vous vous souvenez, le gagnant du prix 123 à Hyères l’année dernière ! (et oui encore et toujours Hyères, tiens d’ailleurs la vidéo est toujours dans ma sidebar). Il a sorti sa mini-collection, qui était vendue dans un tout petit corner 123 à la Villa Noailles, et c’est d’ailleurs là que Lauren l’a trouvé. Son pantalon, pas Peter. Ah, et pour en savoir plus sur le style de Lauren, il y a le podcast de Punky b !

Encore une veste en jean miraculée, une Wrangler celle là. Isabelle l’a depuis ses quatorze ans, ça se voit (notez le jean carrément déchiré à l’épaule) et c’est ça qui est cool. Je suis très, très fan du délavage. Je veux le même, peut-être même un poil plus clair.

Je note aussi que vu le côté assez près du corps, ça rend vraiment bien avec les bas bouffants dont on est toutes folles cet été.

Et maintenant je vais aller copier 100 fois ces lignes : ne jamais rien jeter, ne jamais rien jeter, ne jamais rien jeter. Pas même ma grande robe en tissus d’ameublement léopard de l’année dernière ? Non. Pas même.

Bonne journée !

——————–