Posts tagged paris

New YSL Stillettos!


New YSL Stillettos!, originally uploaded by pinkyracer.

OK, so roughly 13 months after I first realized I couldn’t live without these shoes, I wound up buying them. Talk about restraint. No, they weren’t on sale. This style is too timeless, unfortunately. They repeated it this season, in a better texture (patent faux alligator) and well, I couldn’t resist Le Dianna’s evil influence and flattery. She refused to let me leave the store without buying them. At full price. While the dollar is weaker than it’s been in recent months. So wrong. But you see, the French economy needs my help.

Quel crise. 😉 But they’re gorgeous and someday I might even be able to walk in them. Or at least be carried around on a divan by 4 strapping hunks…. The ankle/foot is taking forever to get to 100% because I refuse to slow down. I’m walking slow, but walking like hours and hours through the fabulous streets of Paris. Life is too short to let opportunities pass me by. When I’m huddled in my parent’s basement brewing up my business or busting my ass working long hours at my fabulous new job that actually challenges me to think hard, I can recall these days of roaming & consuming as a wonderful last big hurrah. Imagine that, being paid to think for a living instead of just being paid to draw lines on paper. I can’t wait.

So I have essentially begun my life as a nomad, since finishing school in March, and it’s about to become even more nomadic as Thursday will be my last day with a home base in Barcelona. My home is where I make it. Or, materialist that I am, my home is in a storage unit in Durham, NC. Or, my home is where I’m from, since that’s where I’m headed unless I start doing some serious hustlin’.

chewing gum, or “I heart Paris”

this is why Paris soooo much cooler than Barcelona. Barcelona wishes it was Paris. Barcelona tries so very hard, but will never be as awesome as Paris. My direct English translation of this notice on the metro:

“Chewing gums are huge romantics. Their hearts get attached very quickly. But the poor things, rarely is this love returned, they desperately seek the big Love with the promise of a fusion. Yet that love awaits them in all the trash cans!”

Zaznibar pix are here…

Mostly museum pix, but some nice shots from the snorkeling trip, and lots of cute kiddies and kitties. It feels great to be back in NYC, except for the jet lag. Got to see the Whitney Biennial, which was awesome. Yes, there are always some artists that make you go “hmmm, who’d he/she blow to get into this gig?” but then there are some magnificent works as well, that make you go “hmmm, I wish I was super rich so I could buy this damn painting.” Someday…

Now it’s time for you to guess: was this photo taken at the Whitney, or at the museum in Zanzibar, which is not an art museum at all?

And here are pix from the Paris flea market, which I was so happy to be able to burn through in my >20 hours in Paris. In 3 hours, I ate a real crepe, bought some nifty yet grossly overpriced stuff, considered sleeping with the owner of this shop, (it was his idea, of course) in exchange for a stuffed crocodile, or really anything. It was the absolute cooolest place I’d ever seen. And to top it off, I found the leather jacket I’ve been looking for for months! It had to be adequately protective, as all my friends worry bout me riding in unarmored jackets, and it had to look cool and sexy. Oh, and be reasonably priced. Check all of the above! Pix of it in action when I return to my beloved, who has been patiently awaiting my return while bound securely to my garage floor.

Ahhhh….Wifi in bed….

While discussing the possiblity of living in Tanzania with my fellow volunteers, I think the first reason I blurted out as to why I couldn’t, is that I need wifi in bed. So here I am, at the airport Paris Hilton in a very confortable bed indeed. Loving it. Spent the whole day on airplanes yesterday, but aside from donating my leatherman, scissors and Ducati screwdriver to Schipol airport, it went very smoothly. Got my own row on the big flight, so it was almost like having a private room. Even the kid in the row ahead was well-behaved, everything was hakuna matata. I spent the last day in Zanzibar (well, not the entire day, just a few hours of it) watching “The Lion King” on TV at my friends’ hotel room. I had never seen it, except of course in real life, but yeah, the Disney version was neat too.

I returned to Kilimanjaro airport to spend one night at the luxurious yet affordable (and only) airport hotel, Kia Lodge, so I could get my 9 am flight without hassle. It’s a really nice hotel, designed to look like a Maasai village, but with a swimming pool and bar and stuff like flushing toilets, glass windows, etc. I’d definitely recommend it to anyone planning a safari to any of the magnificent places near there, Mt. Kili, Mt. Meru, etc.

So today I head back to NYC, which should be fun if I can adjust to the time difference. I tried to stay up past midnight but couldn’t, as I’d been up since 5 am. My porter here at the Paris Hilton is from DRC and speaks swahili, so that was nice, after accidentally saying “asante” to everyone when I meant to say “merci”. Not sure if I should bum around the hotel, or try to hit the Marche aux puces (awesome flea market) which is kinda nearby…

Au revoir, Paris

The last day in Paris was a whirlwind. I even had trouble keeping up with myself. I dragged my tired ass from Chatelet to Bastille and back to Marais, shopping till I damn near dropped. Then hopped on the metro to Avenue Montaigne for a little dream fulfillment. Bought the fancy silk stockings Prada featured in their recent ad campaign, that the vendeuse at the Rodeo Drive store had said were completely out of stock, worldwide. Humph! I said to myself. I’m sure they exist somewhere in Paris. Et Voila! Now all I have to do is keep them away from my scuffed-up mitts. I’ll have to wear gloves to put them on.

Finally broke down and bought a real Louis Vuitton purse. Yes, I know, it’s awfully mainstream of me, and it’s not the exact shape that I wanted, but it is pink patent leather. And it was much cheaper than it would have been in LA, which is funny considering everything else here is ten times more expensive. OK, at least two times. But really folks, 2 euros for a measly condom? That’s just crazy. Not like I was using any on this trip (I’m practicing being a “good girl” for my time in Tanzania), but the same taxi driver (the one with all the girlfriends) pointed out how expensive they are, and I was appalled.

So there’s some pix from Paris, an adorable puppy and a very sweet, friendly kitty, who did not want to let go when I picked her up and held her. She did that cute kitty massage thing that cats do with their front paws when they’re super happy. Vale never does that so it was quite wonderful. Had dinner with Marten, Than and Niel at a very funky and delicious cafe, and now I am considering staying awake until I need to get up to go to the airport. I knew I’d be mad at myself for booking a 7:20 AM flight, but hey, c’est la vie. Still no photos, gotta get to a wifi spot that lets me send e-mail. It might be awhile.

Paris, deja.

No problem finding free wifi here, but last night I was too tired to leave the hotel and go to a cafe, so paid $12 for an hour of websurfing in bed. Crazy! Found the COOLEST jewelry store ever, http://www.bijouxburma.com/ they sell really high-end crystal bling that looks just like the real deal, only bigger! Plus it’s really chi-chi, they treat their customers just as well as any diamond boutique. I only bought a pair of studs, but may have to return for the baguette-cut knuckle duster I’ve always dreamt of…It was so cool, you get buzzed in, and they have these little chairs and low display cases, plus the jewelry even goes home with you in a fancy paper box made to look like a fancy leather box. So fabulous! Just ate the best omelette I can recall eating, and am off to enjoy my last day of Paris shopping. Gotta stock up on things I forgot and/or might not be able to find in Arusha, like kleenex packets for going potty in the woods. Apparently teepee is a luxury there, so the left hand is reserved for that privilege, and not to be used otherwise. I wonder if they beat left-handed children like in other parts of the world? I hope not, cause I only practiced eating with my right hand, I don’t think I’ll be able to write with it!

Visited my cousin and his wife and son in the ‘burbs yesterday, which was neat. They have bunnies. I took a picture of the keyboard on his computer, and will post it here later, as it’s crazy. No QWERTY nonsense, we’re french! To get . you have to shift, and to get @ you have to use another special key. It was so weird. Most of the letters were easy to find, but the Q and A were switched, so I kept getting them mixed up.

It’s only been a few days, and already I desperately miss my bikes. Especially the R1. I saw a guy with a Harley with straight pipes getting a decibel reading from the cops yesterday. Came out at 107db, and they didn’t even rev it much. carefully rolled on to a certain rpm and then clocked it. As much as I hate Harleys, I felt bad for the guy, as I’ve certainly had my share of loud bikes! I’ve seen 4 Goldwings, which I think people chose as daily transport because they’re easier to park than a Smart or other micro car. I can’t imagine why else someone would want such a behemothic bike in Paris.

My friend Flo makes really cool metallic spandex clothing, and was wondering if metallic might be on its way out. I am here to tell you “non!” It is more in than ever. I almost bought a rad, super-disco pair of bronze leggings at Rudolphe Menudier, but they only came in one size (too small!), so it’s on the sewing list for when I return.

Had a spirited argument with an Algerian taxi driver who insisted that fidelity (as discussed in this article: http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?sec=health&res=9A04EFDC1E31F930A25755C0A9629C8B63 ) is impossible, and therefore not a solution to the AIDS crisis. He insists that every man must have sex with as many women as will permit him, and I told him he was just being too French. It was a fun cab ride, we both agreed that women generally need a reason, whereas men will usually do it anytime, anywhere. I felt sorry for his wife, though. He happily told me how many other women he had, and that he was a very good liar to his wife, when she’d ask him if he was faithful. I also felt bad for the other women, as he said that each one only made him love his wife even more. I forgot to ask him how he’d react if he knew she were doing the same.

OK, time go enjoy the city!

J’adore Paris dans la Printemps….

Due to the combined miracles of jet airplane technology and the internet, I bring this blog entry to you from the place where people think a job is forever. I guess the french just have a lot of romantic notions in general. didn’t sleep on the planes, so I’m kinda retarded right now. But loving the opportunity to speak french again. Mark was so fabulous, he met me at the airport in Dallas, which happens to have a very chi-chi hotel lobby restaurant right outside my departing gate. So we had a lovely time during my all-too-brief 2 hour layover, chatting and eating, until it was time, and well, I cut it a bit close, hearing them announce final call for my flight as I passed security. So I ran to the gate, arriving just in the nick of time. It’s so fun using wifi in Paris. Last time I was here it was all about minitel!!! The internet hadn’t even been invented by ____(was it Al Gore? I forget which politician tried to claim that).

There will eventually be some pix, but I’m not feeling like it just yet. I’m greiving over the fact that I can’t use my phone to e-mail pix to my buzznet account. techno-junkie, that’s what I am. So, anyone know of any cool arty stuff that might be going on here this weekend? Aside from the usual permanent collections, which I’ve seen.