So here’s what’s up… It’s official.  I’m overloaded.

Today then, just a teeny wink of a post to tell you that I’m running in all directions. The men’s collections start today and as soon as they’re over, I’ll hop a plane to Stockholm for yet another fashion week…

Next stop: Rome, where I was invited to speak at a conference…

Can you believe that? A conference?

My profs must be squirming at their podiums.

Anyways, I hope to have lots of adventures and images to share with you.

In the mean time, if you’d like, take a glance over at Vogue.com.  You’ll find my photos of Elisa Nalin and Daphné Bürki, two ladies that make me laugh, who inspire me and leave me smiling brightly, cheek to cheek.

You’re all close to my heart, à demain!

Translation : Magali Eva Suárez & Tim Padraic Sullivan.

There are times when I realize that, other than the fact that I reveal a good part of my life on this blog, I also get to show you a living diary of the friends I make. As for Celestine, I had run into her during the fashion weeks. Her looks are incredible, sexy, punchy, refined and fun.

I bumped into her again in London and we exchanged a few pleasantries. She made me laugh with her Irish accent and her electrifying energy enough to cause the Tube’s system to break down.

I suggested to take her pictures for Vogue.com. She agreed with a resounding YES and later, I found myself at her place. Of course, the train was out of order so I arrived late by taxi. We had to do the shoot at full speed which proved to be in sync with Celestine’s rhythm.

We even took time to have a little breakfast and go for a smoke. She burst into laughter because she admitted to smoking only during FWs. [One day, I must make a list of the things that people do only during these events; that would be funny]. Since I was pressed for time and this girl was such an angel, she drove me back to town in her mini race car. Yup. Speed-dating style.

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You remember my little trip to the festival in Stockholm? You remember when I spoke about my spread on the new Vogue.com? Hey ,tell me, do you remember Sofia? What do you mean, no? Okay. Let’s review.

Sofia, who I met in Paris, and who I had promised to show you again if I ever was in Sweeden, well, for once in my life, I have kept my promise: I asked her to be my first Une Fille, Un Style (One Girl, One style). So we spent an afternoon together. It was so great that in the end we spent the evening together as wel, living it up. At times, life can be pretty cool.

A little while later, I went to New York, remember? In NYC, I spent the afternoon with Rumi, who turned up at my place with a suitcase full of her favorite pieces and her adorable boyfriend to carry it. Amazing girl. Amazing time. I love taking photos with her.

I also took advantage of my time in New York to visit the adorable Erika, of the group Au Revoir Simone, in her neat little corner of Brooklyn, Williamsburg.

Lots of images, lots of little adventures…

I’ve only left one thing to tell you about. I waited till the end to announce my new section on Vogue.com

And here it is, Vogue.com. It has been online since yesterday with my Une Fille, Un Style (One girl, One style.) There are still some adjustments left to do, some flaws to patch up, but the ball is rolling.

I’ll be doing two posts per month and I’ll keep you up to date when they come out. I think little by little I’ll find my stride in the new format. It somehow wants to be more intimate than the street style photos that I’m used to. In the future, I’ll dwell more on the women in their true environments, in their apartments, in their dressing rooms…

I’m delighted with this new exercise. It’s like a new adventure. These meetings have inspired me quite a bit and have pushed me to go a little further and amped up my enthusiasm. I hope it inspires you as well.

Have a good day !

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Ah tiens c’est nouveau ça. Voilà que l’on me dit : tu as un style.

Attrapée comme ça, à la volée, l’observation a de quoi faire plaisir. Mince, je vous ai assez bassinés avec ma quête de sens mode pour pas venir râler.

Sauf que moi je sais ce qui s’est passé. Je l’ai compris samedi, en plein shopping de l’humour avec Superchic [ = on va dans les magasins très haute, on essaye les pires trucs et on se marre en testant le sens de l’humour des vendeuses. Les filles chez YSL sont très bien, passé le temps d'adaptation.]
Évidemment qu’on achète rien.

Ok. Évidemment que JE n’achète rien.

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J’en ai marre du rouge à lèvres rouge.

Ça m’a frappée il y a quelques jours. Soudain, j’ai trouvé que ça ne m’allait pas du tout, que c’était une galère et que j’allais devoir utiliser mes 375 tubes de rouge pour autre chose que pour me maquiller.

Je ferais peut-être une oeuvre conceptuelle, une sorte de tribute à mon ancien moi glamourisant et un so far so long au rouge à lèvres qui file. Ou bien un calendrier 2008, comme le Vogue dont les filles ont trouvé un bon moyen de recycler le make up qu’elles reçoivent en pagaille.

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Tee-shirt inspiré du fameux Lanvin.

Telle que je vous parle, je suis dans le TGV, assise en face de Géraldine qui est en train de rédiger son prochain billet. On est lundi, il est 16h37 et c’est pas pour cafter, mais elle a mangé tous les bonbons Haribo Polka et ne m’a même pas laissé un Cocobat.

Aujourd’hui, j’avais prévu de vous parler des seins du top Lara Stone. Lara et ses seins, c’est toute une histoire pour moi. C’est que, comme qui dirait, ça me rappelle quelqu’un. Moi. Oui, Lara me rappelle moi, que celle qui ne s’est jamais une fois dans sa vie identifiée à un top en couv’ du Vogue Paris me jette le premier carré coupe-faim.
Quoi ? Jamais ? Allez-y, jetez, jetez, je risque d’en avoir besoin.

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