I love Paris when it drizzles.

One day, or rather one night, in February, 2016, I decided to go to Paris, right away, I mean, I’m talking taking the first possible train, quite spontaneously, so to speak, actually, that’s no big deal, the TGV makes it from Zurich to Paris in less than four hours, and there’s no reservation needed, they might tell you it is, but it’s not, even when it’s really crowded you do still find a place, at least, I always did, anyway, on that morning, it was already raining when I left the house, but I didn’t give a damn, and when I arrived in Paris, at Gare de Lyon, nothing had changed, it was still raining, but I am not that easily defeated, and, for some strange reasons, I always carry an umbrella, those tiny foldable ones, black in a black plastic bag that looks just like the black plastic stuff from Prada, for far less money as there’s no logo, try this with one of those big ones which nowadays are only seen on state funerals and such, laughable constructions, so very cumbersome the moment it stops raining, anyway, my point is, I made it through the rain. I walked and walked and walked, and doing so, I praised not only my umbrella but more importantly, my sneakers’ soles’ reliability, soyez loué, Pierre Hardy, obviously, we are the only two people left on this world with dry and warm feet, the others are hiding, some place sheltered, wimps, all of them, and they are missing the best about Paris in the rain: you have it all to yourself.

Lunch break at Prada’s.

IMG_1735

We met in late summer 2001. I was a copywriter at D’Arcy in Hamburg, an advertising agency from New York, operating worldwide, or in my particular case, a network operating in Hamburg, Germany. It no longer exists, it was shut down in 2002, but in the 1960s it was still famous enough to be named in Mad Men, one of my favourite tv shows, as competition to Sterling Cooper’s genius Don Draper, I instantly sat a bit more elevated on my couch as it made me feel like playing a part in Mad Men, an exciting opposing part rather than a boring supporting one, I might add. Anyway, I digress, D’Arcy’s Hamburg office was close to Prada’s Hamburg store, and in a lunch break during that late summer I saw her, meaning my jacket, in their windows, having their autumn-winter collection 2001/2002 on display. It was love at first sight. The grey wool, the simple cut, a bit military, no chichi, just plain simple rigour, very high waist, nothing for people whose kidneys can’t bear the cold, a bit haute couture, it looked so perfectly put together, so very much like important tailoring, I purchased it this very lunch break in 2001 and I am still wearing it. Sadly, spring is here, temperatures have already risen, and we now must part for another spring and summer. Hopefully, we’ll enjoy an early autumn.

IMG_1728

Rays of sunshine.

img_7745

Meet my favourite shoes. They are going to spare me from November tristesse. Whatever little sunbeams there will be, the patent leather of their caps will reflect it, thousandfold, adding a little brightness to my life, and to others, as the most common reply after “Oh, Lanvin!” and “Lanvin?” is “Gee, they’re shiny!”. I love shiny shoes, I once had a pair of loafers by Prada that almost blinded people, no patent leather but this sort of leather that only needs a few strokes with a horse hair shoe brush to develop an absurd glow, but sadly, they’ve been gone for years. Lanvin’s Lucas Ossendrijver came to the rescue some years ago, giving old school sneakers a black tie allure, yet contradicted by their somewhat calm colour combinations, no shocking pink, but black and navy, plum and a dying sapin’s green, it looks like it had died from thirst, that sapin, and a moldy green counterpointed by a moldy grey. If it weren’t for the shine of it all, you might need some severe anti-depressants wearing these, but instead you’re being called fancy and are being stared at on the bus. Well, I’ll accept the compliment. Autumn, here we go!

img_7735