http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbGV2_8Yqg4
BACK FROM EUROPE FRIEND(s? eh?). Europeanfashionseuropeanfashions. In love with Amsterdam, Yamsterma'am. You too now--
This guy was sitting in front of his house reading with the front door open, blasting Miles Davis. He was the very essence. I made Tamar stand at an awkward angle so I could pretend to take a picture of her and while really sneaking a picture of him. I looked through his door as we walked by, and the whole thing was white, like jam-hands-have-never-crossed-my-mind-white, and an entire wall, two stories, was a bookshelf.
Here's cute little Brugges, setting of a tragically under-watched Colin Ferrel movie:
Later, in Paris, T slept while I ventured outward to the Latin Quarter. Tried to go to St-Chapelle, which is like a High Gothic trinket box, but the line was too long, and I've been there before anyways. But! I crossed the river and stumbled upon this:
St-Severin, which I must have studied before, but I somehow don't remember it.
But look at this closer:
Isn't that gorgeous?
I have many requisite river/bridge/Eiffel Tower/old buildings I love shots as well, but more importantly, I'd like to address EUROPEAN FASHIONS, the acquisition and adoration of which were a major goal of the trip. Huge (often plaid) shirts, tiny jodhpur pants, men's trousers, weird sweaters, vintage blouses, little boots that say "Hello, I'm off to perform spoken-word Donovan covers in the East Village," cut-off shorts but the kind that look like they're $350, sheer linen blouses, leopard!, fur!, Ray-Bans, Repetto (ugh), leggings but I mean weird leggings, s&m gladiators, IRO zip-up skinnyskinny bleached jeans that you wear really bunched at the bottom, very 40s men's dress shoes, wild glasses (mine looked monumentally conservative in comparison), super tailored blazers, hats!, scarves, and sequinsequins everywhere. Everything is more expensive, but everything looks more expensive I guess. And everyone was perfectly tan, and everyone (in both Paris and Amsterdam) was gorgeous and dressed just-so regardless of what size they were.
Oh! and I saw these leggings in Maje that were black, buttery-soft, sueded but shiny, and they were the most gorgeous things in the entire universe, and rightly so because they were 480 euro. They were the one thing I wantedwantedwantedbutjustcouldn'tget.
But we spent the last two days of the trip madly erupting into, "Oh! My new huge plaid shirt, with my tutu, and my boots from..." "Oh! My men's pants, with my bibbed top, and my tiny cowboy boots..."
Also? Hobos in Paris? Wearing suits, and drinking champagne.
AND THE BEST THING--everyone's riding their bike in Amsterdam, like the vintage cruisery kind I have but don't ride anymore, in their tiny dresses and heels. I loved it so much that I might start riding it again, and in my silly outfits. Or at least I'll be less weirded out about riding my bike in normal clothing. It made me hate that everyone in Philadelphia goes so stupidly nuts for their roadbikes and fixies, those pretentious bastards.
Anyways--wild jetlag, and I want to wander around South Street and buy cheap jewelry, and I want to find weird tights in H&M, so I guess I'm off to do that.
In conclusion: everything is better Overthere, or at least better looking.
