vendredi 11 septembre 2009

C'est SO Paris, baby

"I know we said we'd do next wednesday," said le Fabulous Parisien, "but how about tonight? I've been invited to a party. You want to join me?"

"Sure," said I. "That'd be great".

"OK, well I'll call you later to arrange where we'll meet" he said. "Oh, by the way, it's the party for Vogue - you know, the magazine?"

And at that point I started to panic. What's a boy to wear to a party being thrown by Vogue in the fashion capital of the world? Damn. Why did I agree without finding out more?

Later that evening, dressed in a black shirt (open three buttons), black velvet jacket, dark jeans and the yellow sneakers, I found myself on the fabulous Avenue Montaigne in the company of the bold and the beautiful of Paris. I was only slightly uncomfortable. The champagne soon took care of that.

We started at the Diane von Furstenburg party, at her Paris flagship store. The champagne was cold, the DJ's were hot and the queens were screaming. The place was full of people considerably richer and skinnier than both me and my date, but I like to think we pulled it off.

From Diane, we went to the private parties being held at Dolce and Gabbana (fabulous Martini cocktails), at Nina Ricci (champagne), at Dior (champagne), Versace (champagne and nibbly bits) and Ferragamo (champagne).

It was chez Chanel (champagne) where we ended up in the company of true Paris royalty - none other than the fashion god himself, Monsieur (Herr?) Karl Lagerfeld. Looking fabulous in his trademark sunglasses and black and white, hair tied back in true fabulous style, Karl was werqing that joint.

At one point, a classy looking lady approached him.

"Karl darling, can I take your photograph" she asked, with obvious trepidation.

"Madame", he replied in his German-accented French, "You may do exactly what you wish with your 'camera-thing'. I, however, will do absolutely nothing."

It was all I could do not to clap like an idiot.

From Chanel we headed off to the Plaza Athenée for the real party. Guests were ferried from the other parties in a fleet of Vogue logo-encrusted soft-top Mini's. Others arrived in long black cars and short black dresses.

By the end of the evening, the cocktails and fabulousness had started to take their toll. I was tired and needed to get home.

I jumped a cab with le FP and we headed back to the 12th arrondissement - to my hood, to where real people live, back to planet earth.

As we lay there, dropping off to sleep, he turned to me.

"Have you ever had a more 'Paris' evening in your life?" he said.

What could I say. I'd had the kind of evening that the Sex and the City girls would kill for. It had been ridiculous, fabulous and outrageous. I'd air-kissed more people in one evening than I'd done all month (and let's not forget that I'm gay, therefore I air-kiss a LOT). I'd seen the shoes that I'd sell my mother for (at Zadig and Voltaire, curiously enough - a pair of pewter leather ankle boots) and I'd had enough free champagne to refloat the Titanic.

And on top of all that, I'd had great company in the form of le FP*.

How could I not have had a great time?


*I'm seeing him again on Monday, btw, just in case you're interested...

17 commentaires:

alan a dit…

(Label) Whore

Daisy a dit…

Jalouse! Espesh about Karl - I love his quip to the photographer! I used to work in fashion and I have to say I really don't miss it, but occasionally it's fun to dress up and observe!

Victor a dit…

My goodness...the circles you move in.

I feel I'm having a brush with fame just reading your blog.

Daryl a dit…

Zadig and Voltaire! They opened a shop on Washington off Little 12th St.....oh la la ..

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Alan, like you wouldn't have been there in a shot! Well, a certain someone would have been, deffo.

Daisy, Karl was amazing. And his bodyguards? phewee... ;-)

Victor, I don't know how I ended up there, truly I don't. Well, I do, obviously, but it was such a 'this can't be my life' moment....

D, I like them - but their jumpers aren't the best quality, it seems....but hey, they're very pretty :-)

cb a dit…

You know I'm seethingly jealous now, don't you??

Rob Inukshuk a dit…

Oh yes, a very Paris night for sure!

The Woman who Can a dit…

My goodness! I think I'm living it up if I go late night shopping at M & S! Do tell us how it goes with FP, I'm dying to know!

The Mutant a dit…

Gee, I dunno if you should be posting photos of yourself like that. You're starting to look a tad old Sweetness. Oh hang on, that's Karl... my mistake.

Sounds like on hell of a night. I'm particularly proud of the fact you remembered who served what! Clearly you were more sober than you thought.

amy a dit…

Cinderella In Yellow Sneakers! I loved coming along on your tour of fabulousness.

Swearing Mother a dit…

Next time take me with you? You can pretend not to know me, just get me in there.....

travelling, but not in love a dit…

CB - jealous, schmealous. You have fun enough out there in the twin cities.

Rob, and one never to be repeated, I'd imagine...

WWC - I like me a bit of late night shopping at Marks'...

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Mootant, I'm always more sober than I think. Or is that less? Damn, can never remember...

Amy, come along any time you like - really.

Sweary, after a couple of free drinks it'd be you pretending not to know me, I promise....

12ontheinside a dit…

I dunno, maybe I am getting old. i reckon I'd have more fun having quiet one with a few good mates than swanning about at those sort of parties. It does sound terribly impressive though!

travelling, but not in love a dit…

12oti, I think doing the usual thing with mates is great, but sometimes going outside the normal, doing something that is completely different is great.

It's not like I do this every week, but it was great fun!

Audrey a dit…

I am so jealous. SO jealous.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Audrey - it was both very funny and very weird. I'd do it again...but not for a while...;-)