What is it about Paris that is so bitter sweet?
I arrived via first class Lufthansa, last Wednesday afternoon. It was 45 degrees outside and the Dunhill I was smoking went numb after 2 minutes. The faces that passed me by were beautiful and what I would do to spend more time here.
I am eating steak frite, drinking 50ML of Bordeaux and people watching. The Dior scent from Colette smells like Tripp. That does remind me to call him upon my return. I have decided to wear nothing but black from here on however, I doubt that will be executed as I own nothing black.
I observe the hundreds of faces that stand next to me on the underground between Saint-Philippe du- Roule and the Voltaire exit. I am listening to "The Logic Of Pleasure" by Blank + Jones. Every morning we endured a single shot macchiato from Startbucks and H&M does come in a size EUR 44. According to FHM Collections Magazine from Germany, the jacket I purchased is part of the latest trend.
Berlin was beautiful. Dark, minimal and to the point.
Pictures Say 1,000 words: A collection of photos I took
1 comment:
this entire blog is so vapid. i hope greatly, for your sake, that there is something more inside you than this rampant consumerism and image obsession. frankly, it is something to be embarrassed of. i feel as though i am reading a bret easton ellis novel, though, without the underlying sentiment that this lifestyle is to be abhorred.
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