I stumbled upon the tumblr page “Frogs and Crowns” and fell in love, once again, with the dreams that I had as a little girl. I remember loving to read. And, in time, I began making up stories of my own, filled with castles, and queens and rides on the Orient Express, to exotic, far away places. My imagination, equipped with images from the books that I read, made up so much of who I was then…and I suppose ,had a great deal to do with who I have become. At 43 years old, I still believe in heroes and hold fast to the notion that fairy tales can indeed come true.
I’d love to hear from you!Last month, I found myself running through Charles de Gaul, late again, with hair hopelessly disheveled. My trench coat, having been removed, replaced, twisted around my waist, thrown over my shoulder, wrinkled and tucked under my arm, was now, trailing behind me, dragging across floor, like Linus in an incredibly insecure moment. Low and behold, even in my most disoriented state, I was able to channel my inner compass, and find that last chance newstand where I could grab a coveted copy of the current Paris Vogue. October’s issue was particularly lovely and included a supplement for”enfants” that inspired a yearning for the Alps and the post below.
Via:Chalet de Fermes de Marie
The only bit of Jean Paul Gaultier that I have even been able to afford was in the form of a 12 ounce can of Diet Coke. I happend to be in Paris this fall when the couture cans hit the bistros. Silly as it sounds, I couldn’t help but imagine myself the absolute picture of glamour, as I strolled down Boulevard Housmann with my Hermes scarf billowing gently against the lapel of my perfect brown trenchcoat, all the while stylishly sipping my can of Jean Paul Gautier coke. I was born and raise in Atlanta- so, here’s to you Coca-Cola. This idea is a stroke of genius… Thanks for the Coke and a smile. And, no Madame, Pepsi will not be ok!