January in Paris

It was a dreary month, but not a bad one at all. Although I hear that the best is yet to come in February, weather-wise. Still, I was grateful to have a total of two somewhat sunny days, and a pretty snowfall to shake things up. While it doesn't get as bitingly cold as the Northeast US, it was nice to get some cozy sweaters out and layer on the knitwear. The days are getting noticeably longer and I'm itching to get out.

Two things that got Parisians going: The winter Soldes and King Cakes. The Soldes were impressively crowded and hectic as people scrambled for discounted everything:

While I don't know any hard facts, it seems like they are more shopping-mad here than they are in New York. While I see it as a way to depart with money in exchange to fill a need, Parisians shop for sport and for the fun of it.

The naked mannequins abound.

But some of the clothed ones left me unimpressed.

This swimsuit in the windows at Galleries Lafayette left me a bit awe-struck. Once you see a lumpy and bloated Native American on a swimsuit, it can not be unseen. Just try.

Despite questionable tastes of the window-dressers, the interior of GL is one of my favorites. A huge, stained-glass dome tops the main room, making it a lighter and airier place than most department behemoths.

I feel like it is a pretty appropriate shrine to fashion, and while I have yet found anyone who might actually help me in there, it's become one of my favorite Soldes haunts for potions and lotions and really nice bedding, along with the usual clothes and handbags and really chic accessoires.

All of January, the post-holiday diet is wrecked by the Galette des Rois glut. Traditionally, they are supposed to be for the epiphany, but some reckless soul deemed them fit for all Janvier long.

The only other King Cake I have made or tasted was that of the New Orleans style. It's a little much. It's basically buttery brioche stuffed with cheesecake filling, with sugar glaze and colored sugar on top. My teeth ache just thinking of it. It's fantastic. But alas, like all great things found in America, it is a bastardized version twisted and retold until it is unrecognized from its original form.

(picture ganked from Jeff Schrier)

I tried my hand at making a traditional French one using this recipe. It was excellent. In France, it is puff pastry filled with almond frangipane or marzipan. They aren't as law-suit happy here as they are in the states, so it is still okay to put a bean or a tinker toy in the cake for someone to be deemed king or queen for the day.

Some bakeries had gaudy candied-fruit topped versions, which is as close to the New Orleans version as I could find.

Any chance I'm anywhere near my favorite pastry place, I can't resist trying one of everything.

It made the month seem a little bit sunnier.

Grey.

When I was wee, the term "black and white" was kind of confusing to me.

As in, this would be black and white:

But why are the old movies you see on TV called black and white...they were decidedly "Grey" when you come to literal color translations. I did not understand why the Marx Brothers were described as being in black and white when they just look kind of grey to me.

As I was flipping through some pictures I took on a recent walk, I said out loud, "I don't remember shooting these in black and white". Confusion set in. I didn't! It's just so goddamned gray in this town, things always look like they were shot in black and white! Ha!

If those women wasn't wearing their brilliant scarlet coats, you would be fooled as well. Also, a note about fashion: women in Paris do this thing where they wear all black, but have one item that pops in bright red (or yellow or green), and then they match their lipstick to it (only if it is red or pink, but I'm sure others have tried orange or blue). I saw the most mesmerizing woman prancing down Rue St Honore wearing all black- sweater, thick tights, coat, scarf...but she was wearing a pair of those dressy "business shorts" over her tights in brilliant red, which happened to match her shoes AND her lipstick. It was stunning.

So I did what I do when I have gray skies (and sometimes when I have sunny).

I shot in black and white. Don't get me wrong, I've always loved the medium, and I will still shoot in it from time to time. But right now, it feels like defeat. It's my way of giving up on the lighting situation that I have been dealt. Pearly-gray to moody sooty gray, and lots of in-between shades. It makes it hard to get contrasty prints without the sun, but it's better than dull colors. Also, shadows. I miss plays on shadows. I have not seen one of those in ages.

Anyway. Here we go.

One thing that I did see that deserved a bit of color:

I know nothing about cars, but a vintage Lambo is sure to catch anyone's eyes.

In the back seat: A pillow, a gas canister, and a pair of gentleman's loafers, in case you are curious.