mercredi 4 mars 2009
Tired tired tired.
And upset and fed up with a lot of stuff.
Fashion week is starting today in Paris. Crazy week.
I need energy now !!!
But first let me tell you about my last day in Principe de Savoia.
I was so bored, I was working on this big piece I had to give on Monday. It was 2 am and I was DYING for a cigarette. So I decided I would just go down in the lobby and find one. I was weraing wool stockings and a big grey sweater. I had taken my make-up off, and my hair was all messy, almost dirty. I looked like anything but a cool fashion editor in a luxury hotel. I looked more like a teenager on a pajamas party. I first ran into this cute 25 year old little DJ boy who flirted with me for a while and offered me to smoke a joint with him in his room. I was about to say yes, when I ran into this crowd :
(Photo courtesy Purple Diary)
They all were in such a good mood they really didn't care I was wearing pajamas, and I ended up shaking hands with Emmanuelle Alt and Mario Sorrenti in my wool stockings and stained - shit!! - grey sweater.
Tbe night then became really crazy. I should censor it here, though. I never came back to work. Olivier Zham, Milla Jovovich, two different hotel rooms and a joint rolled by a young boy are involved. I went to sleep round 7 am. It was fun. Really fun. And all this fun happened in my pajamas, and without a single drop of alcohol. Which is kind of a miracle.
On the next day, or, better said, three hours later, I was wearing my H&M dress that looks a lot like a Jil Sander and going on with my Milan fashion week activities.
I got obsessed by the shoes at the Dolce Gabanna show :
Thought the Finale was a little "too much" :
(Shit. In this photo you can totally see that I am no first row at all. )
And flew back to Paris.
(Actually I am cheating, this was taken on my way there but I love the Evian bottle effect of it!)
Back in Paris, I realized my two best friends were fighting over a man, my almost boyfriend hated me for wanting independance in our couple, my bosses wanted my article NOW, and I was so tired. So I worked and worked, tried to handle my hysteric friends, cried with my almost boyfriend on the phone and slept nine hours twice.
Today. Well today is Paris fashion week starting.
I don't have any invites for Gareth Pugh.
I am not that cool. But I was the crazy pajama girl of the Principe di Savoia, and that's cooler.
I want to see the Devastée show. It fits my state of mind perfectly. Devastated.