Tag: Paris

It’s not impossible/unfathomable/unusual ~~& *future plans* & a catch up

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Good afternoon! Being off school for the next two weeks, I firmly told myself in the mirror that I must aim to be out of the house by noon each day, and, being 12:03pm as I write, it is nice to be like ‘Fuck you, me!’ It has helped with meal times though, I have been known to wake at half 12, have some breakfast, and then immediately follow it with some lunch because ‘well, it is lunchtime.’

Anyway, things are good! I have 3 days off now with no school or work, and I’ve treated myself by finally emptying my Amazon basket and turning it into a real delivery that will turn up at my doorstep in a couple of days (if I have sufficient funds, fingers crossed.) It wasn’t much anyway, just things I’ve wanted for a while, including Pink Martini’s, ‘Splendor in the Grass’, Godard’s Au Bout De Souffle (which I have literally wanted for over a year) and some iron on patches- great conversation starter, especially with cute boys with floppy hair in pop-up bars.

There is a lot going on at the moment, I’ve decided to take a gap year (an involuntary one, of course, thank you drama school) but no, actually it seems like a really good thing for me right now, and I finally will get to s
ee my beloved Europe- still young, blonde and unaware of danger. This blog might begin to slide towards travel writing/hoping/dreaming etc, I want to go there so exciting and with the highest expectations that I will have to fulfill as a matter of necessity. Yes, I have such a romanticised view of it, which derives from too much teen trash novels- which means I have too much of a romanticised idea of pretty much everything.

I am probably going to Interail it all, and am particularly excited about travelling through Italy, where my dad’s side are from. If anyone’s been through this all before, please get in touch! I want to know the best places to go, eat, drink, dance etc.

This wasn’t supposed to be a post about this, but I guess that is what it’s now become. I really must leave now though,  I have to meet a friend about a little upcycling business we’ve started up (you will no doubt be hearing about this too!)

Write very soon, I promise. (Setting myself up to fail, as per.)

P.s Glastonbury line up half announced, next 3 months have POTENTIAL!!!!!

Tay x

It is a Tuesday, and I am watching a film. Also: I want a pixie crop

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seberg_jean_04_g“I live with melancholy

My friend is vague distress 

I wake up every morning

And say, “Bonjour tristesse”

It is almost 3 o clock, which is too late to start anything or finish anything. I went camping last night with my best friends, and now it rain so persistently I’m staying in to watch films. (This won’t be a long post, as I’m getting weaker and weaker with post-camp fatigue)

For some reason, I felt the need to watch Bonjour Tristesse, a 1956 starring the delightful Jean Seberg. It’s the story of a 17-year old girl who spends her summer by the sea with her unconventional father, the themes are sort of:  her naivety, her relationships with others, and ultimately how she will never be the same again after the final events.

So vague, but I don’t want to be all SPOILER! SPOILER! And also, YOU SHOULD SEE ME I REALLY LOOK AND FEEL LIKE SHIT

I read the book by Francoise Sagan before I saw the film, and the book is  a lot, lot better- in my opinion. I read it last summer when I was on holiday in Greece, and could not believe me luck that I had picked an actual BEACH READ that wasn’t as tacky as the things you pick up in WHSmith in the airport, called something like Paradise Forever? and Flip Flop goes my Heart (obviously I suck at writing titles for fiction, and therefore fiction itself.

The book is super short, Sagan was only 18 when it was released and you can capture the reality within the way it’s been written- it could have happened to her (I don’t know if you’re still reading this Hey How you doin)

Some things for you to do now:

  • Go to your library and seek this book out to imagine you’re in a hot country during your summer rather than curled up in your room on the laptop eating Wotsits
  • Take a look at these paradisiacal stills from the film, with the blue skys and THAT PIXIE CROP:

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(It isn’t a total feelgood summer film/book BTW, with the title ‘Hello sadness’ as you could probably guess. Don’t worry if you didn’t though, I do A Level French and had to look up ‘Tristesse’. I was pretty OK with Bonjour however.)

Bonjour beaucoup (ha ha ha) Tara X

Friday I’m in love – (+ stuff I’ve been gawping at with my eyes and my ears this week)

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I felt like I had to write to stop me from eating another Mars Bar…(I blame me because I have no willpower of any sort! I blame the weather! I blame hormones! I blame society!)

Hey, look- it’s Friday! Here’s some stuff I’ve been listening to/reading/scrolling through this week:

Reading: Jean- Paul Sartre- Nausea

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Or, attempting to read. I picked this book up in Paris , after completely falling for In Camera, one of his more famous plays. You can watch the Harold Pinter-starring film of it in its entirety here.

This book is pretty heavy, the blurb summaries the plot in the following ways:

  • Antoine Roquentin, a French writer who is horrified at his own existence
  • In impressiontic form he ruthlessly documents every sensation
  • His thoughts culminate in a pervasive overpowering feeling of nausea

Etc etc. For some reason though, it’s the book I’ve been reaching for to deter from doing any revision, some of the consciousness of Roquentin (and presumably Sartre) is so similar to mine I could DIE:

“I am. I am, I exist, I think, therefore I am; I am because I think, why do I think? I don’t want to think any more, I am because I think that I don’t want to be, I think that I . . . because . . . ugh!”

It is at this point that I have to run up to my room, don’t write ANYTHING for a few hours and turn up, I don’t know, BEYONCE really loud. Poor Sartre had no Beyonce, so he wrote books and made money instead.

Still, a very interesting read (especially if you like language and how it works, too), full of daily observations of people which is ultimately timeless, as people rarely change.

Listening to: (people talking about very little all day, radio, the wind blowing horrendously outside & every CD in my collection) but last night I fell asleep to: Richard Hawley’s True Love Gutter.

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His sixth album, Hawley is such a fave because of his deep, full-of-tone voice and rockabilly style. Another I listen to a lot is Coles Corner, which is a really sweet album about a place in the town where he grew up in where lovers used to meet to go on dates and such.

True Love’s Gutter is for those kind of sad days, when it’s raining- and you feel like going to sleep just to stop thinking for a bit. I listened to it quietly last night and when I woke up it was the morning, so it has the lullaby-feel to it.

Track 5, ‘Don’t get Hung Up in your Soul’ is just, unfgh, when he’s all like

“Baby don’t get hung up in your soul/don’t let them make your heart grow old”

I’m getting all fangirl now, and I’m sorry.

Scrolling through: Rookie, (obviously)- and various blogs including this sweet one with hella illustrations by ‘esmeblegvad‘ of whom I know nothing about apart from I like what she draws. I don’t own this, obviously, but this is her style- and it’s cute.

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Go play and have fun.

X

I’ll always have Paris (or else)

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UPDATE: I now have 10 followers! And I’ve had 2 page views from KENYA! Which made me laugh a bit, because one can never imagine what you write hunched over a keyboard in a stinky box room in your tiny house could be read by someone on the other side of the world. It makes me feel very very small.

I want to share some pictures from my recent trip to Paris. I went a few weeks ago, and as I was *on a break* from my blog, I didn’t have this in mind, so there is a lack of ~street style~ and the photographs are more like, “Oh, wow. A pretty alleyway. If I just add a filter this will look less photo, more PHOTOGRAPHY.” (I don’t regret it, I’m more of a note-taker than a picture-taker.

The reason I went is because I’m studying French for my A Levels and for my 17th birthday my mum thought it a good idea to take me to Paris for four days, insisting that I ONLY spoke French (exception: when I talk to her, she’s not French. She kept saying Si. I was all like, it’s just oui.) and ordered meals, bought tickets etc, all in French. I did better than I thought I would, and what shocked me is that people actually speak French outside of my French classroom! I thought this would be a funny anecdote and said it to a few people on return, but noone laughed, just as you’re not laughing right now.

Diary entry for ‘vendredi 5 avril’:

I feel so doomed. I’m in Paris, and I have to go home tomorrow, but I think that if I leave I might die.

PLOT SPOILER: I’m still here, very much alive.

Anyway, for me, I know that I’ll go back- because it felt so right to be there. Sure, all capital cities have that allure- Rome is still my favourite place in the world, but there’s something about Paris. I haven’t quite worked out what it is yet. It’s probably in French, and my French is still too E-grade standard to translate it.

The best thing was stumbling across places without meaning to, like (oh FUCK! This is the Amelie cafe!)

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I had to take this picture THREE times, and all times indifferent Parisian waiters nudged past me tutting, ‘ugh filles anglaises’ (this didn’t happen but I felt paranoid)

I think that discovering something new (a place, a band etc) is such a personal thing, for example, my few days in Paris are remembered by moments where I satisfied things I’ve been learning about or singing to every day of my life at home. Joni Mitchell’s ‘California’, opens with ‘Sitting in a park in Paris, France’- so when I sat in a park in Paris, France you can’t even UNDERSTAND how that felt (I know, I’m a moron)

Also, we when we visited the spectacular Musée D’orsay, there was an exhibition of Second Empire furniture, which SOUNDS dull! But boy, it was so rad! I’ve been reading Jean-Paul Sartre’s ‘Huis Clos’ recently- and this is the kind of Second Empire style where my fear and general bad ~vibes~ for this decor came from. It’s just got LAYERS

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Near the Sacre-Coeur
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If I hadn’t spent all my money on 95c baguettes, I would’ve bought this.

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The most idyllic place: AMBIANCE JAZZ COCKTAILS

I honestly feel like I haven’t even touched the surface of this all, I might get around to another post some other time, once I’ve properly listened to the music I bought there and read the books.

What did I wear in Paris? I took no pictures, but I can Polyvore it, and you won’t believe me, but nevertheless I hope you agree with my taste. (This is mainly what I wore, big old secondhand riding jacket and all, and ALWAYS an extra pair of shoes as one simply MUST do in Paris.)

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Have a good one, X