Mars. Dimanche. 7. I love that old calendar on the wall of our favorite bistro. We've been here a day and a half and, maybe we're suckers for the bistro Parisien, but we already have two favorite ones. That's because we're staying in the cutest area of the Marais and I'll never stay any where else. That's not true, I'll stay at my sister-in-law's in the 7th any day, too. But still, if I were to live in Paris again, I'd like to live right where we are. Above is Cafe Charlot, sur le coin Chalot/Bretange.
That's La Tropezienne noire in its first spoting in Paris...bah, c'est hypercool, mega chic, quoi.
While my mate had meetings in our Parisien apt-cum-showroom all day, I was free and happy to help out as her showroom model. Her real, tall and waifish one bailed on her. Feeling large aside, kinda the best thing that could of happened did, that store in New York where every designer wants to be? The one that ends with New York, and starts with a B. They came in today to see my cellmate, er, I mean showroom mate, and they ended up taking, what appeared to be a fair amount of interest in my dear line...I was so pleased, I wanted to scream. But I'm not getting ahead of myself, they didn't order - yet. I'm just happy to have had the opportunity to have met them and had the chance to have explained a bit of my wares.
To celebrate we headed down to Cafe Charlot to split a cheeseburger, fries and a biere blanche (not split.) It was cozy and perfect and some of the best people watching in the world. But for real, see why I'll never be a real fit model?