Sunday, 25 January 2015


I'm in Paris on business. I'm reminded of the first time I came here, whilst at university, on a kind of field trip to discover the Paris of Baudelaire and Proust.  I took the train then, too, but it was long before Eurostar. 
When we arrived, I became separated from my friends and sat down on my bag in the middle of the station and, like Linda in The Pursuit of Love, had a bit of a cry: it was very early and we'd traveled all night. Fabrice de Sauveterre did not find me before my friends, probably just as well, or I'd have been too busy having fittings at Dior to bother graduating.

Anyway, more of this tomorrow. 

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