The week in between

Next week is men's fashion week here in Paris. Once again I'll be running around town meeting people for drinks and gracefully attending any show I may get invited to last minute (or manage to talk my way into). The town is crawling with cute boys. Just about anywhere you go you are bound to run into a scruffy kid on a skateboard wearing a hoody who just so happens to be the same guy on the billboards all over the metros and bus stops.

Last week was casting week. It was so much fun to see my boys again. I'd hung out with the same crew for about three months before everyone parted ways  for a month and then reunited last week. Facundo and Lucho were the first to arrive. Both are from Argentina and became best friends in Buenos Aires before coming to Paris. Both big stoners and hippie hearted, they were a fun beginning to the reunion. Two days later the Brazilian boys Ju and Rodri arrived from Milan. We all met up at the Champs de Mars along with my old pal Andre, Gonzalo (a cute new boy from Argentina) and my two friends Annika and Tania.

Within the next few days more boys started coming around including Simon who I absolutely adore. We played monopoly, drank wine, smoked joints and got yelled at by the neighbors. It was just like the good old days.

They all left on Sunday to Milan for the castings and shows there and then come back in a week or so for the shows here. I'm sure there has to be a reason but it makes no sense to me why the castings for Paris were last week, then the castings and shows in Milan are the next two weeks and back to Paris after that for the shows. Its all just part of the whirlwind that is the life of fashion. The jet setting, the conflicting schedules, the chaos...  It just wouldn't be the same without the tormenting obstacles on the road to fabulousness. 

Rodrigo Oliveira and Juliano Allgayer


Facundo Pellegrino, Luciano Rivarola and Gonzalo Domenech

Thanks to Annika for the photos

And then there was no internet...

I love living in Paris. I love the sky at around 7 pm when the pink clouds peek through the buildings and ever so gently kiss the floor and give everything they touch a soft glow. I love the smell of hot bread when I walk by a boulangerie, the kids playing in the parks, the stores... I have to remind myself of how fantastic this city is because from time to time, like every other big city, it has its downfalls. There's dog shit everywhere, the market streets permanently smell like fish, the plumbing sucks and NO ONE likes to works. Le service pour le customer simply just does not exist. Enter my problem.

I've had to deal without internet at my house for over 2 weeks now. My landlord decided to switch services on me, which is fine because I get more channels on my TV and I can make free calls to the states. In theory said change was to be made two weeks ago from one service to the other to have uninterrupted internet service . One of the companies came through and cut off my old service. The new company, however, has not as of yet made a grand appearance in my apartment. I call and call and I realize that my calls are made in vain because its always the same drill. I get an automated person for half an hour and when I can finally speak to someone real they always say they'll call me back... but they never do.

So I decided to do what everyone else in the world does when they need free wireless: I tried stealing from the neighbors. Everyone who lives around me has a code though and I'm pretty sure if I ask them for their password to use just for a few days I'll not only be shot down but they'll probably try to get me in trouble somehow due to a recent hostility between my front neighbor and I. The crazy hag decided to scream like a lunatic one day out of her window, proclaiming that she "lived across from crazy people!!!". It was completely out of the blue, I swear.

Anyways the point is I am now accessing the net at the park across the street from my house, which so conveniently has free WiFi. Its great for quickly checking your emails but its really windy and cold so my visits are short. Hopefully my internet problem gets solved quickly because I have tons to talk about since casting week just passed here in Paris and next week are the shows. Lots of parties and lots of cute boys...

Stranger, weirder, nastier!

There's a video on You Tube called "Portfolio" that shows a fashion shoot by Steven Meisel in 1983. It features a bunch of gorgeous chicks dressed in 80's glam rock gear dancing and singing their little hearts off as Steven screams "Nastier! Sicker!". It's genius. One of the chicks in the video is non other than Paulina Porizkova, my least favorite judge ever on America's Next Top Model. She ruined this season for me, but I have to say I love her in this video!

This is what I love about fashion photography: the yelling, the thrill, the music... its like a big party where you have loads of fun with pretty people and in the end you don't have a generic partytonight.com type photo, but a kick ass editorial or cover!

Last week I met Vincent Gapaillard, a super cool young photographer from Paris who photographs fashion still life. Personally I could never photograph still life. I need the rush of yelling and laughing and well, moving life... but Vincent makes his still life look fresh and fun. He definitely has a very unique way of seeing things.

Vincent made a great point about style and how important it is to make everything you do your own. Its easy to get carried away by role models (they say that copying is the biggest compliment) but there is no room for old... the same shit we see over and over... I find myself mimicking both consciously and unconsciously too often and its something I need to work on. But hey, i'm young and learning, so until I get my signature down and really concretize my style, I enjoy "borrowing" ideas from magazines and books... and not to mention Meisel's directing! When i'm shooting I just can't help but scream "Stranger, weirder, nastier"!