Saturday, July 31, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
My advice? Visit Germany! ^^
I've just spent two weeks in Bremen and here's a little sample of what you can find there.
Gucci, Armani, Versace: shit kitch with mafia money!
Two countries. Two sets. Two ways to see fashion.
I'm French, I'm from the country that invented fashion. And I'm gay so I'm basically the epitome of the judgmental bitch and I'm about to bitch ^^
Because if there's one thing I hate it's moda: fashion made in Italy. I'll keep simple and go straight to the point: Italy's mode is cheap! It's for straight guys who believe they have to wear Armani to match their new Ferrari.
There is a big rivalry between France and Italy because both countries claim the leading place when it comes to fashion but also food, culture, history and yet I can't help but feel that everything coming from the other side of the Alps is vulgar.
There's something about Armani that spells footballers, cheaters, macho with little dicks and big cars married to some bimbos and massively cheating with stripper who all wear far too much perfume and make-up to match their hooker-like heels and occasional Elie Saab ostentatious dresses at a premiere where they flash their brand new breasts and fake tan in a far too outrageous cleavage they have done right before their holiday on a yacht they stationned for weeks in Saint-Tropez or Ibiza because that's the "place to be" even if it hasn't been for the past 20 years!
Armani and Italian fashion is for the kind of guys who will look like Berlusconi when they're old: ostentatious, vulgar, tasteless, too much, obvious, flashy and bling-bling. You never have to look far beneath the sleeve of an Armani jacket to find a 12 kilos diamond watch. After all, Armani sponsors Chelsea FC, had Beckham half naked to promote their underwear and, after they thought he was not cheap enough, they move to Cristiano Ronaldo. No comment!
Armani has set a target, they are pleasers: they need to appeal to the footballers and the guys who want to be like them, buy a Ferrari or a blinged customised golden Range Rover with their initials on the door, wheels and dashboard.
But I have to say that I like Valentino because he knows how to dress women with elegance. He looks like an old scrotum but at least he knows son métier and he doesn't try to follow a demand or a trent, he makes the trend.
That's what I like about French mode. Most of the designers are not pleasers, they have a clientèle but only when it comes to perfume and accessories. Chanel doesn't answer to a demand, Lagerfeld follows his mood, his creativity and doesn't go and sponsor some pretty faces with big ears and oh! too big egos at some award ceremony. His creation remains a trend-setter. Same for Christian Lacroix, Jean-Paul Gauthier, Yves St Laurent or Christian Dior.
They are the names of fashion, of class along with Givenchy, Olivier & Ted Lapidus, Christian Louboutin and Rochas. Not Versace, Gucci, Prada or Fendi who are only good at selling bags, belts and whory shoes to the enriched pikeys. Two houses in France decided to follow the trend and look where they are now: Vuitton (who imitated YSL intertwined letters) and Lacoste. éLet's appeal to the masses and sell baggy shorts and skater shoes" Well done...
My personal favourite are YSL, Chanel, Lacroix and Lapidus because all of them rhyme with class, simplicity and elegance in very different ways. I remember when I was a child and we could see some footage of Paris Fashion Week on tely at the end of the news. I loved the Autum/Winter collection with the gorgeous classy black and white dresses by Yves Saint-Laurent, the outrageously elegant colours of Lacroix, the way Chanel and Gauthier praise women's beauty with handsome aloofness from Chanel and delirious craziness from Gauthier.
Judge by yourself from the mood of the cities:
Here's Armani at the last Milan Fashion Week.
Here's Vivienne Westwood at the last Paris Fashion Week.
One is outrageously vulgar following the porn-chic trend.
The other one is simply cute and it's Westwood ^^
I'm French, I'm from the country that invented fashion. And I'm gay so I'm basically the epitome of the judgmental bitch and I'm about to bitch ^^
Because if there's one thing I hate it's moda: fashion made in Italy. I'll keep simple and go straight to the point: Italy's mode is cheap! It's for straight guys who believe they have to wear Armani to match their new Ferrari.
There is a big rivalry between France and Italy because both countries claim the leading place when it comes to fashion but also food, culture, history and yet I can't help but feel that everything coming from the other side of the Alps is vulgar.
There's something about Armani that spells footballers, cheaters, macho with little dicks and big cars married to some bimbos and massively cheating with stripper who all wear far too much perfume and make-up to match their hooker-like heels and occasional Elie Saab ostentatious dresses at a premiere where they flash their brand new breasts and fake tan in a far too outrageous cleavage they have done right before their holiday on a yacht they stationned for weeks in Saint-Tropez or Ibiza because that's the "place to be" even if it hasn't been for the past 20 years!
Armani and Italian fashion is for the kind of guys who will look like Berlusconi when they're old: ostentatious, vulgar, tasteless, too much, obvious, flashy and bling-bling. You never have to look far beneath the sleeve of an Armani jacket to find a 12 kilos diamond watch. After all, Armani sponsors Chelsea FC, had Beckham half naked to promote their underwear and, after they thought he was not cheap enough, they move to Cristiano Ronaldo. No comment!
Armani has set a target, they are pleasers: they need to appeal to the footballers and the guys who want to be like them, buy a Ferrari or a blinged customised golden Range Rover with their initials on the door, wheels and dashboard.
But I have to say that I like Valentino because he knows how to dress women with elegance. He looks like an old scrotum but at least he knows son métier and he doesn't try to follow a demand or a trent, he makes the trend.
That's what I like about French mode. Most of the designers are not pleasers, they have a clientèle but only when it comes to perfume and accessories. Chanel doesn't answer to a demand, Lagerfeld follows his mood, his creativity and doesn't go and sponsor some pretty faces with big ears and oh! too big egos at some award ceremony. His creation remains a trend-setter. Same for Christian Lacroix, Jean-Paul Gauthier, Yves St Laurent or Christian Dior.
They are the names of fashion, of class along with Givenchy, Olivier & Ted Lapidus, Christian Louboutin and Rochas. Not Versace, Gucci, Prada or Fendi who are only good at selling bags, belts and whory shoes to the enriched pikeys. Two houses in France decided to follow the trend and look where they are now: Vuitton (who imitated YSL intertwined letters) and Lacoste. éLet's appeal to the masses and sell baggy shorts and skater shoes" Well done...
My personal favourite are YSL, Chanel, Lacroix and Lapidus because all of them rhyme with class, simplicity and elegance in very different ways. I remember when I was a child and we could see some footage of Paris Fashion Week on tely at the end of the news. I loved the Autum/Winter collection with the gorgeous classy black and white dresses by Yves Saint-Laurent, the outrageously elegant colours of Lacroix, the way Chanel and Gauthier praise women's beauty with handsome aloofness from Chanel and delirious craziness from Gauthier.
Judge by yourself from the mood of the cities:
Here's Armani at the last Milan Fashion Week.
Here's Vivienne Westwood at the last Paris Fashion Week.
One is outrageously vulgar following the porn-chic trend.
The other one is simply cute and it's Westwood ^^
We love Germany
Arne Friedrich und Philipp Lahm.
More than just homoerotica, I would like to express my genuine admiration for Philipp Lahm who's straight, young and a footballer and yet he's always been at the head of the tolerance movement. His work to fight prejudices and homophobia in football has been relentless and he's won many awards for this.
Also viele viele viele Dänke Lahm! Wir lieben dich! ^^
And Friedrich? Well he looks like Xabi so that's enough :p
Thursday, July 01, 2010
That was close!
Today, one of the most disturbing things was said to me by Lorna. We were having a pick-nick/barbecue on the beach and she said I didn’t like England because I keep on slagging it off. That got me thinking on my way back. Long walk: 45 minutes. With flip-flops, I hate flip-flops! They are for people who’ve given up!
I realised it was true. Since I came back here, I haven’t been feeling like I felt when I was in Stafford but mainly Blackpool: at home. And that gets me, very deeply so I can’t help but finding everything crap. I slag off England’s binge drinking, all the men walking around half naked at every single ray of sun, the slags all around, the dismal public services, the arrogance… And nothing positive can come to me.
Have those ten months in France really destroyed my special relationship with England?
I know I don’t like France more than England but I can’t help but feeling that somehow I might have made the wrong choice and now that I know I’m here for sure, I can’t stop thinking of leaving for somewhere better.
Has the dream died? Has the reality got me up? Have my eyes been open on the cruel reality of an agonising country riddled by desperation, sex and alcohol?
No.
No.
No.
And no!
It’s not England. It’s Portsmouth!
It’s not England I resent, it’s here. It’s like leaving in France but without the advantages of good doctors, good buses, good trains, good schools, good manners and sensible, clever people…I miss the North. I miss Blackpool, that’s the problem. People in the South are happy shaming the North only because it helps them to forget their own mediocrity, to put it into perspective by pretending there are worse people than them.
I miss the Northerners. They are funnier, wittier, more cynical but more welcoming, warmer, simpler and smarter. It’s the little everyday thing you don’t realise but who weight a lot in the scale because at the end they make your life better, more pleasurable. It’s the bus driver calling “Mate!” or the cashier calling you “Love”. It’s them saying “Cheers!” everytime and answering back when you say “Have a nice day” or “Take care”. It’s the simplicity of people who don’t show off, pretend to be better. There’s no arrogance, no insults, they don’t look at you like you are different in a bad way. They like you because you are different. They are some raging tits of course. Les cons sont partout there’s something in the North.
Portsmouth city is disgrace! It’s ugly (they blame the Germans for this, of course!), people are rude, insulting, men are pillocks, women are slags, when they are not drunk and they are arrogant. They are always looking down on you, they are cold and overbearing. They believe they live in some kind of paradise because there is (more) sun. The “English Côte d’Azur” I was said. God, I don’t like the French Riviera because it rhymes with boredom and old rich people but what an insult it is to compare Portsmouth to it!
And that sun! I came in England for a colder, more bearable weather. It hasn’t rained for over a month (but for ten minutes one morning) and the temperature hasn’t got below 25°C since the beginning of June. If I wanted that, I’d have stayed in France or gone to Spain!
And the university! That is even worse than Nanterre. Four times have I got to photocopy my passport for the same fatuous cow whose scale of incompetence is more than unbe-fucking-lievable!
The thing is about France is that you expect them to be incompetent so somehow you can do things by yourself. They are actually quite happy with you doing everything: calling the right people, running everywhere from buildings to buildings, offices to offices to find the scattered and lost pieces of what they were supposed to give you and put everything together yourself. Here in Portsmouth, they are driven by this complete inability to do anything right or on time, they lose everything and never work but you can’t do it yourself. They won’t let you, you’re not allowed to go and have a word with the guy who’s not doing anything.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)