Kruse's Thursday

  – by Alexandra Kruse

Mon Dieu! I love Paris so much! To say it with a Kitsune T-shirt: Paris je t’aime!!! It feels like spring, perhaps that’s because parisiennes never wear tights, always wear too little, would rather drink than eat, always smoke and always look oh so so chic. You can get Givenchy in literally every department store and, oh well, let’s just leave it at that. Much more importantly: today is – according to facebook – international sweatpants day. Really. My days of fear of sweatpants are long gone (thank you Nike) and I spent most of January in them. Thanks to my sartorialist-friend and style-icon (yes, she is French) Garance Dore now even girls are officially allowed to wear sweatpants (not just Japanese tourists, who wear them with neon trainers and furry Hello Kitty accessories). To get a hold of her manifesto I bought the high-end version by Isabel Marant. Instead of getting drunk at Joop! or watch »topmodel« Barbara Meir stumble, I spent the day, pigging out on eclairs at Fouchon and going on a shopping raid in Rue du Temple. Bless temporarily moved into the new store by »Surface2Air« for the next couple of days. From April first onwards those in need of extending their stay can move into the Blessguesthouse. 

In the evening I went to Colette and discussed the mythology of the American West and other things with Adam Kimmel. We looked at pictures by cowboy photographer Jim Krantz. Very Marlboro, very men! Smokers were my keyword of the night. I smoked in front of the door. And there he was, the antidote to all these androgynous mythical creatures (Dear Bill Kaulitz, I remember very well when we skimmed fashion magazines and Diesel refused to send us pants, damn!!!), fallen from the sky, healthy complexion, chiseled and with gleaming white teeth. His name is Gabriel. We didn’t talk for long. I only realized how lucky I really was when he put on sweatpants the next morning. I went to the Eglise Saint-Roch, in which the memorial ceremonies for Yves Saint Laurent took place, washed myself clean from sin with holy water and lit a candle for all the fallen angels. Long live the city of love! ◊

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