|A petit corner “shrine” at the Hemingway Bar in the Hotel Ritz.|
Apropos of yesterday’s conversation (sort of), I’m off to Paris to have lunch with a friend I have not seen for more than 20 years. Fortunately — or unfortunately, as the case may be — I’ve espoused the 10 pounds on the bottom for 10 years on the face, but that still leaves the traces of 10 years on the visage, probably more actually.
Here is what I am relying on to erase the years:
1.) The infallible smile which lifts the entire face and defines the cheekbones. Not as well as surgery of course, but it’s 9 a.m. and we’re having lunch at one. Time doesn’t permit.
2.) A wonderful mousse-like blush I’ve found, strategically placed high on the cheekbones — not too much. You know, just the blush of youth.
3.) Perfume, which I wear every day anyway no matter what.
4.) Pearl earrings if I can find them.
5.) Chatter and charm — we’ll have to see how effective that combo is. I’ll let you know.
I figure that’s all I can do. I have a great, new haircut, Deja Pseu (Une Femme) said she likes it so that’s a positive. And, as I write this I’m thinking about what melange of black on black on black I can wear to facilitate the long unbroken line which can perhaps give the fleeting impression that I have the same figure I did more than 20 years ago. On the other hand, maybe I’ll wear a white linen tunic which is kinder to the face and simply forget about the generous derriere which may or may not have whittled 10 years off my face.
Now I’m thinking, “am I nuts or what?” Why do I care? We’re supposed to be friends. He told me he is bald now. Does that change anything for me? Not at all. Why would it? He is kind, brilliant, interesting and as far as I can tell, none of that has changed.
Perhaps I have other qualities of which I am unaware. But still, I would like to be thinner. Always thinner. I wouldn’t mind being richer either, but that’s off subject which is sooooo rare chez moi — to be off subject, that is.
|The Hemingway Bar at the Hotel Ritz in Paris.|
I’ll let you know how it goes. He’s a writer and said to me, “Let’s have lunch at one of Hemingway’s favorite haunts.” I immediately responded, “Fabulous, I love the Hemingway bar.”
|La Closerie des Lilas restaurant|
“No, no,” he said, “La Closerie des Lilas, his favorite restaurant while he was a struggling writer.”
He worked on “A Moveable Feast” at the Closerie des Lilas and moved on to the Ritz as his fame and fortunes rose.
I’m off. Wish me luck. . .
|Monsieur et Madame François-Henri Pinault.|
Since I am not giving you a value-added post today, I thought the least I could do is give you some extremely important information. The dress Salma Hayek was wearing at the French Open is from the YSL spring/summer 2011 collection. She probably got it for a great price considering her husband owns the company and all.