My new job as an embalmer, preparing the dead in a pop, glittery way, was working like a charm. Families of the deceased would order the characters they wanted to see their loved ones in one last time. I was allowed to prepare people as Michael Jackson, Kurt Cobain, Homer Simpson or simply as an anonymous cheerleader or soccer player.
When I emerged safely from house-sitting at the Parker and the heat wave had subsided, my first instinct was to slam back a drink.
I'm told I was granted a trial. But it must have been a speedy one, because when it took place, I was still in a deep coma caused by the police officer's rifle butt, which melted over me like margarine in the Sahara sun.
Exactly 80 years ago, seventeen-year-old Marcel Ravidat, an apprentice mechanic, discovered the entrance to the Lascaux cave thanks to his dog chasing a rabbit.
With autumn just around the corner, I wanted to bring you some of the finest and most refined footwear available.
Here's what happened to me, and it's really because it's just us that I'm confiding in you for the first time on this subject.
About ten years ago, I went to a bar in the 20th arrondissement to screen a short film I'd made. It was a good time, and my film was screened alongside a dozen others.
When we receive our beautiful little shoes, they arrive in boxes, very large boxes which, once emptied, are of little use to us and even become cumbersome.
When we opened our shop on rue Beaurepaire nearly seven years ago, we didn't have a penny to our name, and in fact it was I who finished the renovations./p>
When I was entering adolescence, in search of a self I was still chasing, a film came out called The Colour of Money, which was a sequel to a nineteen-sixty film, The Hustler, already starring Paul Newman and also about sticks, balls and, above all, billiards.
Today I'd like to introduce you to Moondog, a low-boot that shares a very familiar design with our fabulous Gigi. Its 7 cm heel and the materials used in its manufacture are strong signals that you absolutely must have it.
Very few people know this, but the song Gigi sung by Dalida was inspired by a story about my mother who, in the seventies, when she had separated from my father, lived from odd jobs in the south of France, in Cannes, the city of poodles and scrunchies.