Earlier this summer, I was sitting at the oh so pretentious Cafe Beaubourg in Paris. Mind you, I was not sitting there to be chic, nor to people watch, but rather because the cafe is strategically located between the hardware store (during my Martha Stewart period) and my apartment.
As I stepped into the shade to enjoy a cold fresh squeezed orange juice and to watch the crowds walking in front of the Centre Pompidou, I slowly looked around and noticed an interesting group sitting two tables to my right. The ringleader was petite, middle-aged, and dressed in head to toe black on a sweltering day. Her red lips stood out from her powdered white face, topped with a bizarre towering lopsided fake hair bouffant. Despite her cheap cats eye sunglasses, her clothing and makeup, including platform shoes and a paper umbrella, recalled a geisha. I thought to myself that she must be another out of place American tourist.
This week, that bizarre bouffant woman has been profiled in the New York Times Fashion and Style section. Yet another testament to the deterioration in the quality and relevance of their reporting. While they classify her as "beautiful" I must say that "ridiculous" is a much more fitting adjective to describe such a pretentious display.
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