I bought this book today.
It's pouring rain outside and I'm sure snuggling up and reading it would be the proper thing to do. I could even drink some tea and braid my hair and do whatever it is people who read books do.
But, alas, this book is in Italiano, so I'll have to settle for looking at the pictures, blogging about fashion, and continuing my Bob Dylan youtube marathon.
Contrary to the title of this post, I do not aime ♥ Paris very much at all, but in theory, it will always be my fairy tale.... A place where people dress better, walk taller, and make everything look heartbreakingly beautiful [+ speak the world's most flawless language, easing from their lips like a symphony.] Reality, however, proves a bit more gray for a few reasons in my opinion.
1. The weather, food, and folk of Paris can be summed up as overall bland.
2. I am more partial to the Philadelphia Art Museum then the Louvre. I hate to burst any bubbles, but the Mona Lisa basically takes up the same size of a postage stamp [I exaggerate, but it is alarmingly small.]
3. Does anyone else find it a little bizarre how bad the crepes are in France? Like honestly, a $5 food court crepe stand at your local mall will make you a better one, I promise. And the Arch the Triumph will probably singlehandedly cause the death of all Parisians eventually. It's OKAY to paint lines on the road indicating where the lanes are. It's reminiscent of Philadelphia, only with stick shift cars and the cast of Ratatouille driving them.
It's not entirely fair for me to judge one of the world's greatest cities so harshly... but when I went to Paris I expected to find paradise, and instead found a city built by mortals on planet Earth with flaws just like any other person, place, or thing. I suppose the price of loving life and beauty too much is this... to become eternally disappointed with reality when one's imagination seems to consistently outdo the truth.
But, back to the point.
The runway shows in Paris last week may had me biting my tongue and putting my imagination to shame. I might even take back everything I just wrote- Marc Jacobs for LV, and Vivienne Westwood's, and Alexander McQueen's runway shows may have redeemed Paris and all my ill feelings toward it. Being a style.com junkie, I check the site daily for what's going on. The highlight of my week so far was having on two separate occasions two different people who aren't really into runway fashion and have relatively conservative styles look over my shoulder and curiously inquire about what I was looking at. Not only that, they both loved it. Why? Because these designers create something universally inspiring. Fashion can surpass vanity and if you open your eyes and try something different, you might find yourself surprised by what you could like. So try it. Be bold. Paris did, and for that, I might forgive it.
Might (:
Ombre? An Afro? Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton. I am completely in love with this man. He can do no wrong.
Vivienne Westwood. Referenced in Gwen Stefani Songs. Like 1000 years old and still so damn cool.
Look at this runway. That print. That silhouette. Those shoes. How is this even REAL? Alexander McQueen.
When good Americans die, they go to Paris.
Oscar Wilde.
No comments:
Post a Comment