Stylised Monologue

Sunday, 5 February 2012

GAY PARIS (happy, people, happy!)

In case you're wondering why it's been a while since I last posted, it's because I was in GAY PARISSS! (french accent please, and gay as in happy not gay as in shit. Just fiy). Now, I know there is a massive hype about Paris. It's meant to be the fashion capital of the world, the birth place of gourmet food and red wine and most importantly the most romantic city in the world! (it is, after all, where Tom (as in, Cruise) asked kat (as in Holmes) to become legit TomKat . BEAT THAT* *I hate them). The first time I went to paris I was eight. It was freeeezing and all I was interested in was how to consume as much chocolat chaud as physically possible and how to play as much footice (a rendition of football my dad and I invented where instead of a ball, you kick ice and give yourself severe frostbite) as I could before I turned into ice myself. The second time I went, it was in the last 20 days of a looong relationship that had long seen its best days. We went to all the romantic places and argued. We went to see beautiful art and argued. We had some nice food and argued. In the end, we missed our flight back and argued. I feel more romantic brushing my teeth every morning than I did during that trip to Paris.

So, having established my unconventional view of Paris, let me continue... this time round, I had a brilliant time. Not romantic, not even particularly fashionable but brilliant none the less. Cue to pictures.

As is the stereotype of any tourist and particularly tumblr or fashion blog owners, a trip to paris comes with an array of photographs showcasing a variety of dessert goodness. Macarons, croissants, berthillion sorbets. On top of that, it is also almost compulsory for any self respecting blogger to take photos of the locks on the bridges. I don't like to dissapoint my readers. So I did both. IN ONE!!

(i love that this person just wished to never part from cakes and pie. He/She has found the meaning of life, I think) 

Another photographic stereotype that comes all the way from Paris is ART. How many crowded mona lisas have you seen from visits to the Louvre? Thoughtful people imitating the Thinker? Monet's pond? and the list goes on.. Courtesy of Rodin's own back yard, I present you, a photo of ART:

(on a slightly more serious note, if you happen to be in Paris, you cannot miss the current exhibit of Rodin's scetches. It's literally one of the best things I HAVE EVER SEEN. After this arse, of course.) 

Lastly, Paris goers will always showcase FASHION. Wether it's designer windows or their own little ensembles, fashion will be present. Trust me. I happened to attend Paris with one of the most stylish ladies I've ever met, (I'm talking about my mum, how gay am I?!) so I could not pass on the opportunity to include her in all my outfit photos. She was, of course (she's my mum), happy to do so and even oblidged to the trademark I insisted upon continuing. So...

SAUTER (I think, my french is merde!) 

There were SOME (one) solo pictures ,  awkard posing. Oui madame!

and then, there was one nightmarish moment where my mum and I had to jump away from Hell. Literally. (ok, sort of) 

fiew.. close one!!!

A bientot...