Tuesday, July 05, 2005


Maussie sent another update. He left Lyon and spent two weeks in Prague then took a 15 hour bus ride to Geneva and is now heading towards Tunisia where the "government blocks Hotmail." About Switzerland, he wrote: "[W]e have spent 4 days at [Swiss Alps's], catching up, eating chocolate and drinking the finest milk in the world, that's right. I never thought milk could be so tasty."

I pictured a cow wearing gold drop earrings and Japanese silks in an abstract pasture surrounded by glass windows and stainless steel troughs when I read that. Mmm, mmm, mmm ... designer juice.


Just watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I'm in love with what Pitt and Jolie were wearing. Everything was clean, crisp, and flawlessly tailored. Against the WASP-perfect interior set, they looked like a model couple out of a Jil Sander ad. I think Myron Baker has mastered the ideal image of the modern man: pulled-together both professionally and in appearance. His silhouette is sturdy and slim and his accessories are subtle; they do not add extra bulk. He's robotic and private, takes initiative without prodding. A debonaire gentleman, spontaneous and polite, witty and wasteful. (Of course this is all bullshit when one considers the nightmarish upkeep in maintaining this kind of lifestyle. How boring it is to live imitating literature, making choices for the sole purpose of accumulating adjectives.) Devon Patterson was Jolie's designer. Her pencil skirts and fitted sweaters, even slightly vintage lingerie, reminded me of Hitchcock's To Catch A Thief with the impeccably dressed Grace Kelly. I can't help wondering whether Hollywood is going through a 50's revival by bringing back simple closet staples. If so, this might be the first ever trend I'm prepared to fully embrace as it happens. I mean, low-rise jeans and those to-the-thigh stretchy shirts? They make women look like God came down and highlighted their ass to remind Him what not to do in future ventures.


M. Biologique wrote me, talking about good weather, poo and "finding" himself. He also asked who was now feeding me. Think what you will.

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