Edited by Rebecca Alexander on
To end Paris Fashion Week here at Fashion Indie, we decided on one last post dedicated to the glorious city of light;
Yes m’lovely Indies, F.I. loves the City Of Lights (especially since they were just there) but they left me behind, so I’m exceedingly jealous, even tho’ I told myself that it probably wouldn’t be all that great and it’ll smell cuz the French don’t wear deodorant and the Eiffel Tower “ain’t all dat” and I’d probably get into a good old fashioned pose-off with some prick for lookin’ at me cockeyed with that “I’m Parisian and you’re not” attitude and I’d have to show him why they calls’ me the Glam’Rist……….but I know I’m just lying to myself to numb this pain in my heart that feels like, well, that feels like missing out on Paris! BALLZ!!!
What a dream. The Louvre and the glass pyramid, The Eiffel Tower, the lighted Ferris wheel at the Tuileries, the toothless hookers on the boulevard, the fountain that made it’s historical appearance in Gene Kelly’s film masterpiece, “An American In Paris” at the Place de la Concorde, ugh, aren’t your ‘pannies’ wet?!?! I know mine are.
But honestly, as fashion people, whether we embrace corporate, big wig fashion or reject the mainstream and bargain shop at our favorite resale boutiques, why do we all seem to have this idolatrous reverence of Paris. We have this fantasy of the fabulous ways of the French, their extravagant decadence, their fearlessness in personal style, their exciting and unparalleled view on life and we want that don’t we? And their city, Paris, what a town huh? Even tho’ it is arguably “the birthplace of fashion”, I believe we build it up in our heads to be something that it’s not or rather something that it’s too real to actually be…………or could it really be that wonderful? That legendary place where dreams come true !
Ha! Walt Disney eat your heart out!!!
-Z’maji, The Glam’Rist