This is my new dress… a lovely paper baggish type creation from Vanessa Bruno. Oh, how I love presents for me!

We didn’t go to any Halloween parties, because Halloween bites in France, but got dressed up as disgruntled bears anyways, complaining about taxis, administration, unemployment and the lack of good porridge… in France.

Caveat: The following includes no photos. The night was shot on video and, after I get my act together in the next few days, I’ll post some captures.

 
It’s quite simple. In order to deal with celebrities, one has to look like a celebrity. However, celebrities will know if you’re one of their breed or not. It’s written in the magazines. So, what you have to opt for is Tier 1 dressing, grey or black, very chic and glamourous, but never outrageous. If you’re going to be running around backstage with the likes Boy George, Vera Wang, Suzy Menkes, Hilary Alexander, Hamish Bowles, Demi Moore, Ashton Kutcher, Janet Jackson and Anna Piaggi, all for Mr. Jean-Paul Gaultier’s thirtieth anniversary party, you have to know where you stand: somewhere outside the inner sphere of power.

These are the types of images you come up with when you go to a raging good party. The thing is, what constitutes a rager these days? Well, if you count the open bar with unlimited champagne, the fully catered event, a splattering of celebrities, two really fun girl DJs who bring down the house with a pompadour, some guy dressed as a rabbit, another guy wandering around with a parrot, and loads of hotties, oh, plus a floorshow by Agent Provocateur, well, that could constitute a rager. It was held at the EMI headquarters in Paris, but, true to the rumours of its death, I believe the music industry is no longer siring stars. I didn’t spot hardly any, unlike the Rhino, except for Benjamin Biolay. But, since every other boy in the party seemed to have swept-away bangs, I assume he felt he couldn’t be left out.

Ahem, well, I also went to two Carl Craig thingies on Saturday, which were also really fun though swampy with heat and people. Luckily we were VIPs, so we hung out backstage where the windows were open and the booze was running free. Just sad I didn’t make it to the Bains Douches afterparty but what can you do? This wasn’t a rager, despite the good music. What was missing? A guy with a parrot.

September is garage sale time in Paris. They call it les vides-greniers and you can get the official low-down here. All sorts of fun things can be found like gorgeous Italian shoes.

However, Russians flea markets still kick ass all over anything here. Somebody scored me this amazing Russian Leica* (more…)

That guy, the one you might have caught on America’s Next Top Model, the one who apparently taught Naomi had to walk, was at this birthday party for Martin Grant last night. Why he took a picture of me is a mystery… probably being nice. The party rocked, what else can you expect from champagne, but two days in a row of this kind of excess makes me love my bed dearly tonight.

 
Click here to find out the secret to Jay’s t-shirt!

Now that half the population of Paris has officially decamped for vacation, those left behind, and those who are about to leave are tearing up the town with sweaty sexed up clothes and a mountain of booze. My head is still reeling from last night and now my brain feels like boiled lettuce. We partied hard at Sissi’s and hot damn, it was messy and fun.

The perfect day involves working in television, being filmed doing cheese imitations with harp music in the background, then going to an absolutely smashing and glamourous invitation-only party at Georges, the restaurant on top of the Pompidou, that not only had a champagne open bar, but had ESG on the bill. All my fashion friendlies were there. I can’t remember the last hour. The odd thing was I didn’t even know about the party till the last minute but still managed to wiggle my way in thanks to Eric Dalbin, who was the music booker of the night. Thanks dude for the last-minute save and for ESG!!!

This is what Robin had to say about the rest of the night:

I wouldn’t have said "true blue motley crue gear". the oversized forest green + paisley cardigan has more of a k.cobain-ish feel, the black leather pants could be construed as "mötley crüe gear". it was no sleep to brooklyn for me after i left you with the "peas". tossed and turned comfortably but then gave up. thinking i could consider it as at least rest if not sleep. (more…)

Today I feel like I should be starring on page one of the Who’s an Idiot Newspaper. Last night, Robin and I were busy chowing on some guacamole, listening to Slayer and Hall’n'Oates back to back, when I tipped a glass of wine all over my Powerbook. Truth be told, I had been panicking all day because I knew I had to buy and boil two ducks, for the in-laws who are coming over for lunch tomorrow, but that’s such a lousy excuse for short-circuiting your best friend.

(more…)