Namedropping on foreign terrain


The project I have to do here in Marrakech is related (as so many things in Marrakech are) to French expatriates who came here many years ago. Many of them were (or are) in the fashion industry, and this place has a rich history that interweaves their stories with the stories of Morocco and the stories of the fashion world, its inspirations, history, and gossip. So several of the people around me are quite familiar with that world where I alas am not. And in conversation, they often drop names of people who are central to this history, and whom I suppose are quite famous, but whom I have never heard of. I try not to stare so blankly and make a mental note to look them up later, hoping I can figure out the spelling or last names when only the first are used. Still, I have to admit that one of the reasons I enjoy working with diverse clients is to learn something about their interests, their work, and their worlds. Today is my last day in Marrakech, for tomorrow I fly to Casablanca at 4am(!) and after a few hours layover, back to New York. This trip has been fantastic, but I am ready to be home.

Damn those sexy Brazilians


Tomorrow I catch a flight to CancĂșn to meet up with my buddy Arnaud who is flying in from London. We will spend the following two weeks exploring the Yucatan. I realized that I should probably have a swimsuit for the occasion and passed by a shop today that had many attractive models of swimsuit from Brazil. Unfortunately, they are made for those body perfect  bitches from Brazil. As I tried on what should have been my size, I was horrified by how small it was. Realizing that I would not have much time before my flight tomorrow morning to search anew, I settled on a larger (but still tiny-seeming) model.

Be forwarned: As heavy on the photo documentation as this blog is, I will be enforcing a total news blackout on any and all images of me in said swimsuit.