I look very serious here, but inwardly very amused at the old couple who stood nearby and giggled like children as we shot these photographs. The sun shone like spring today, the rude but mostly scary cashier at the supermarket asked me how I was with a smile and not a single one of my many coffees tasted bitter bur perfectly frothy. Maybe I’m floating on a caffeine high, but after waking up late,this Monday unexpectedly evolved into a lovely one for no real reason except I insisted it should be. As for the outfit, I barely thought about it, clashing monochrome with terracotta, flinging on this neck scarf ( actually a belt from a jumpsuit) ; haphazard styling as a means of showcasing my new bag, a gift from the lovely ladies at Karl Lagerfeld in Paris, who wrapped it with scribbled note saying ‘just for fun, not work’. As a blogger I rarely solicit gifts, apart from my half a dozen messages to Leica in hopes they will finally please gift me their most expensive camera in exchange for 10,000 instagram posts (no reply as of yet but I have hope that another 6 messages or so might do the trick!). Anyway, being the obnoxious female I am and a blogger at that, I got a fancy present and thus decided to flaunt it in your face. Cut me some slack, I have no girlfriends here, Biba sniffed the bag for half a second and my brother seemed even less enthused, I have no one else to show it to, but you!
Back when I called Paris home and despite living across the Seine in the 6eme, I used to spend most of my time in the marais. There was this strange bagel shop that was always empty, I always wondered why it wasn’t crowded, never wanting to spend 10 euros on a bagel that could only be bad if the shop was always empty, but all the while I came up with ridiculous stories about why no one ate there. It is a rare sight to see a restaurant in the marais deserted, they are all heaving with people spilling out onto the streets. It was one of those silly anomalies that caught my imagination and I couldn’t let go. Until one day it closed down and became a Karl Lagerfeld boutique, far more fitting of a establishment for the big windowed commercial property it was. It was glitzy and black and beautiful, no longer sad stacks of uneaten bagels. And so whenever I think of Karl’s brand I think of bagels and the marais and that boutique, which I went into a few times on my way to other places. Funny what the mind remembers isn’t it and the strange associations it makes.