The sublime story of the
captain love
I'm often asked where the wonderful name Captain Love came from, a name I once gave to one of my finest creations. It all began back in 19... when my parents, in the midst of their hedonistic, swinging days, had absolutely no idea what to do with me, other than pack me off to summer camp at every opportunity.
VERY BAD TRIP IN BRIGHTON
And so, at the end of my first year of secondary school, I was whisked across the Channel to Brighton for my first encounter with Perfidious Albion, where people supposedly ate their steaks with mint jelly, or so my cousin Gontran told me to scare me witless (I hate you, Gontran).
It was the first time I'd ever left France, the first time I'd set foot on a ferry, and the first time I'd travelled to an island.
I was sent to stay with a family of ten children and ended up sharing a space in the basement with five other foreign schoolchildren, most of them from South Korea, along with a few rodents and assorted creepy-crawlies.
The thought of it would horrify me today, but I must admit that back then I found it all rather exotic. Especially as my fellow basement dwellers played with the little creatures as though they were household pets. They even invented polo matches featuring cockroaches riding on the backs of rats.
We laughed ourselves silly, and I captured the whole spectacle on my Kodak Disc.
« A crowd parted to let me through, as though I were the chosen one. »
I had lessons every weekday at a local secondary school, which we shared with the English pupils, who were still in class because their holidays started later than ours.
Then, about halfway through my stay, one lunchtime, just as I was finishing my daily bar of Merveilles du Monde chocolate, three English boys my age, all in school uniform, came over and asked me to follow them.
I couldn't understand a word they were saying, but their gestures made it clear that I was supposed to go with them.
A path opened up before me, as though I were the chosen one. And there, at the end of it, stood a boy with wild, tousled hair, a slightly grubby face, probably from messing about with his friends, almond-shaped green eyes and a thoroughly dishevelled appearance. Beneath his shirt, I caught a glimpse of a T-shirt bearing the name of a band I'd never heard of: The Clash.
The boy who had led me over explained, in French every bit as bad as my English, that Peter had picked me because I was very, very pretty and he wanted to kiss-kiss a French girl.
Everyone burst out laughing, and amid all the cheering, Peter put his arm around my shoulders and planted a kiss on my cheek, suddenly shy in front of the crowd.
As for me, I was completely mesmerised by his rebellious, angelic face. I'd never noticed him before, and I was both astonished and incredibly flattered that he had sent for me.
« I was on cloud nine for the rest of my stay, proudly showing off the cutest boy around. »
And yet, after more than a week together, he still hadn't kissed me on the lips. And I must admit that, being terribly shy, I was waiting for him to make the first move.
That moment finally came on a Sunday, as we were strolling hand in hand. Near a pub, a song began playing that I would never forget: Wot by Captain Sensible. And that was when he finally decided to press his lips against mine. The kiss was as fleeting as it was wonderful.
The following day, we were supposed to meet to see the latest James Bond film at the cinema. But he never showed up, and for the entire following week, he avoided me. Too shy to ask him what was going on, I assumed it must have been because of our kiss, because I hadn't known how to do it properly.
I left England heartbroken at the thought of never seeing Peter again, of never getting to kiss him one more time, and of never understanding why things had ended or why he'd suddenly pulled away.
But I was also delighted by that first experience, by the knowledge that the cutest boy of them all had chosen me, and by having met my Korean fellow students, with whom I'd organised so many games involving our little animal friends.
And that is why, all these years later, I decided to give this wonderful court shoe, the star of all stars, that very name, in memory of my first romantic flutterings.
