Tea with Brigitte Macron.

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This gate to the Palais de l’Élysée’s spacious garden was of no great interest to my when I was last in Paris early this year, in late March, I think, by then, François Hollande was still residing there and I never cared much for him, I only really cared for Giscard d’Estaing who was in charge of France when I was a child, but now, a few months later, somebody else lives there, at 55, rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, now it’s the garden of Monsieur and Madame Emmanuel Macron and my feelings have totally changed, now I want to trespass, forcing the guards to let me in, invite myself in to have tea in the shade with Brigitte while chit-chatting and advising her on what to wear, I think there is still Platz nach oben, as one would put it in German, some room left for improvement, idioms never translate well but you know what I mean, she’s not Melania Trump, is she? Melania Trump is so well dressed, some outfits are real stunners, let’s be honest, she’s a stunner herself, and her red Dior suit, worn in Paris on Christian Dior’s birthday (or was it the day of his passing?) was just as brilliantly chosen as her pale blue Ralph Lauren ensemble on inauguration day or the black lace by Dolce & Gabbana she was wearing when meeting the Pope in the Vatican. But then again, Melania’s still Melania, however well dressed she might be, the woman is married to Trump, the petulant seventh-grader inhibiting the White House, I despise them both with every fibre of my being, so no, I better not tell Brigitte Macron what to wear, I’d rather ask her what I should wear, she definitely makes perfect choices as far as men and their style are concerned.