Okay, it's offish (that's an abbrev for 'official', not "sort of off"). I SUCK at blogging when I don't live on a ship. I think it's just because life is more stable here. Am I too easily enmeshed in the de riguer-ness of life to appreciate the fact that I am living in Paris? Perhaps. But I am definitely starting to realize that I am almost DONE living in Paris.
This frightens me. I've effectively taken a year off of school- I've taken classes, but they're almost all elective and non-related to my Ad major- and I've been constantly bombarded by external stimuli. When I get home, there'll certainly be time to revel in all that I've missed (West Main Pizza, Newport Athletic Club, Sachuest Point to name a few) and spend hours in my hot tub catching up with my favorites, some of which have now graduated (!!).
I don't feel like writing any more. Perhaps I shall continue to post some catch-up bits later. For now, I'm going to read the blogs of other people in my program and compare my experience to theirs. I may or may not have a competitive streak.
30 April 2009
08 April 2009
Why I Hate Added Value & Other Unrelated Items
Topics to be covered, in no particular order:
As a cultural eye-opener, the members of the PIP were invited to take the RER A out to Marne-la-Vallee to hit up "Le Vallee Village", an outdoor outlet mall (like Wrentham) that, unlike Wrentham, specializes in high fashion. While my mouth did water as I ran my hands over crepe Givenchy gowns, Christian Lacroix sheath dresses, and a Jimmy Choo pump that caused me to make a sound usually reserved for people's new babies, my brain got a little angry.
These represent a small portion of the "leftover" pret-a-porter collections designers are left with every season. Some designers put them in haute outlet areas like VV, but some don't want to "tarnish their brand" by suggesting that they a) don't sell every last piece because they're so desirable and b) would stoop to the level of a plebian outlet mall to sell the remaining last-season pieces. That in itself is a little irritating, but that's added value.
What made me livid and nearly sick is that Hermes, the Hermes of the 250-euro scarves, takes the unbought scarves at the end of each season and BURNS THEM. I can't even begin to explain how wrong this is in a world (in a city) where people can't even afford to eat, or house or clothe themselves. 250 EUROS PER PIECE AND YOU BURN THEM. As an ad student, I understand that brand identity is important, and that Hermes place in the haute couture world is legendary, but as a human, I just cannot comprehend that.
Don't burn your scarves or I shall begin mispronouncing your name on purpose so that it sounds like the Greek god with wings on his ankles, Hermes!
Okay angry time over.
Cultural facts about France time begins now.
In French, there is an idiomatic phrase for window shopping called "leche vitrines", which literally means "window licking". Other than the fact that this is hilarious, it is also not far from the truth.
The French LOVE to window-lick (NOT literally. Please don't get the wrong idea, come to Paris and lick the window of Chanel because you want to fit in culturally). The window-licking is made simpler, because you can actually what the likelihood (I just typed licklihood, no joke) of you being able to actually lick whatever it is you're looking at, because they list the prices of the items on little cards below the looks. This is how, every morning, as I pass by Manoukian and gaze longingly at the salmon pink satin blend halter dress that flares out at the waist, I know it can never be mine because that rude sign telling me it is out of my price range gazes right back at me.
Also, the window-licking can happen at any moment. Window-licking is not something you write in your agenda. You do it on the way to work in the morning, leisurely stopping to check the price on those striped peep-toes. You do it waiting for the bus, stopped cold in awe of the structured bags at Lancel. You definitely do it on the way home from work, stopping the thousands of others walking back home from continuing to walk, instead forcing them to also stare at whatever's captured your attention. As I walked with my boss back from a jewelry shoot, he frequently stopped to check out the looks in the windows, pausing with the same lazy consideration someone gives their produce at the supermarket. Window-licking is French and I love it.
Now that the travel is winding down, I think I'm going to start a new blog. This one will be more about focusing my writing style on advertising/culture-related snark and less on the minutiae of my life, which will be reserved for this blog and therefore rarely written about. We'll see!
- window licking
- "Value" Villages
- my life
As a cultural eye-opener, the members of the PIP were invited to take the RER A out to Marne-la-Vallee to hit up "Le Vallee Village", an outdoor outlet mall (like Wrentham) that, unlike Wrentham, specializes in high fashion. While my mouth did water as I ran my hands over crepe Givenchy gowns, Christian Lacroix sheath dresses, and a Jimmy Choo pump that caused me to make a sound usually reserved for people's new babies, my brain got a little angry.
These represent a small portion of the "leftover" pret-a-porter collections designers are left with every season. Some designers put them in haute outlet areas like VV, but some don't want to "tarnish their brand" by suggesting that they a) don't sell every last piece because they're so desirable and b) would stoop to the level of a plebian outlet mall to sell the remaining last-season pieces. That in itself is a little irritating, but that's added value.
What made me livid and nearly sick is that Hermes, the Hermes of the 250-euro scarves, takes the unbought scarves at the end of each season and BURNS THEM. I can't even begin to explain how wrong this is in a world (in a city) where people can't even afford to eat, or house or clothe themselves. 250 EUROS PER PIECE AND YOU BURN THEM. As an ad student, I understand that brand identity is important, and that Hermes place in the haute couture world is legendary, but as a human, I just cannot comprehend that.
Don't burn your scarves or I shall begin mispronouncing your name on purpose so that it sounds like the Greek god with wings on his ankles, Hermes!
Okay angry time over.
Cultural facts about France time begins now.
In French, there is an idiomatic phrase for window shopping called "leche vitrines", which literally means "window licking". Other than the fact that this is hilarious, it is also not far from the truth.
The French LOVE to window-lick (NOT literally. Please don't get the wrong idea, come to Paris and lick the window of Chanel because you want to fit in culturally). The window-licking is made simpler, because you can actually what the likelihood (I just typed licklihood, no joke) of you being able to actually lick whatever it is you're looking at, because they list the prices of the items on little cards below the looks. This is how, every morning, as I pass by Manoukian and gaze longingly at the salmon pink satin blend halter dress that flares out at the waist, I know it can never be mine because that rude sign telling me it is out of my price range gazes right back at me.
Also, the window-licking can happen at any moment. Window-licking is not something you write in your agenda. You do it on the way to work in the morning, leisurely stopping to check the price on those striped peep-toes. You do it waiting for the bus, stopped cold in awe of the structured bags at Lancel. You definitely do it on the way home from work, stopping the thousands of others walking back home from continuing to walk, instead forcing them to also stare at whatever's captured your attention. As I walked with my boss back from a jewelry shoot, he frequently stopped to check out the looks in the windows, pausing with the same lazy consideration someone gives their produce at the supermarket. Window-licking is French and I love it.
Now that the travel is winding down, I think I'm going to start a new blog. This one will be more about focusing my writing style on advertising/culture-related snark and less on the minutiae of my life, which will be reserved for this blog and therefore rarely written about. We'll see!
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