Indeed, this was totally staged.
Geographic relocation is one of the great things about blogs. It’s a concept adapted from books. It doesn’t require you travel very far beyond the prosaic confines of your computer screen but in a series of illuminating photos, boom: familiarity, routine, comfort zone, eliminated.
This particular series of three photos was taken on a side street in the 6th Arrondisement in Paris last month and while I may not be able instigate your imagination as rigorously as I’d like, I will debunk the wildly brilliant and famous American literary rhetoric of a certain Brittany Spears.
For, what you see is not what you get, baby.
Figure A suggests I’m looking at something, I’m not.
Figure B suggests I’m happy about something and what’s more, while nonchalantly standing on street sidewalks, I always strategically have my arms up and my left leg bent slightly for maximum photographic potential.
Not the case.
In figure C, I’m not walking anywhere. That street is so micro it’s unlikely anyone has actually got to cross it. In the event one does though, it’s cogently impossible that a camera will just…be there. Watching, snapping, clapping. Clapping?
This particular gesture actually almost got me run over by three different Vespas which would have made for three very interesting stories but my reflexes are pretty good and hey, that flailing shoe lace at bottom right looks pretty…majestic.
Ah, personal style blogging, what are you?
Equipment blouse, Isabel Marant pants (butterfly patches, people,) Ferragamo heels, Zara vest (identity crisis in tow here: it thinks it’s a. Celine, b. Balenciaga, is neither) Valentino purse. Photos by Bridget Flemming, my knight-ess in shining cape.