fudge and falafel
Today Liz and I were leaving a vintage store in the Marais (where I bought a caramel-colored, round-bottomed leather tote bag and a gorgeous silk Lanvin scarf for only 25€, yes!) when we were accosted by a tiny Japanese woman, sporting an elflike knit hat and numerous layers of drapey clothing and toting a leggy camera tripod that was almost as tall as she was. She told us that she wanted to photograph us for a street style photoshoot to be featured in Fudge magazine and had us stand in front of a cafe, where she snapped 30 or so photos of the two of us looking variously awkward, posed, taken aback, convulsing in giggles, pointing, staring, and “candid.” She then had us fill out release sheets on which were asked to provide our names, professions, favorite places to hang out in Paris (felt a lot of pressure to continue to seem as cool as she apparently thought I was), a description of what we were wearing complete with brands and prices, and – my favorite – a statement of “the point” of our outfits. Liz and I and the woman, whose name as printed on her card was Shibuya-ku Higashi, thanked each other approximately 94 times, and then parted, walking backwards and waving.
Then we went and ate some yummy falafel in a park and reflected on how we’re probably very soon going to be swamped by Japanese fan mail. Can’t wait.