Kanye (and I) do Viktor and Rolf

Pictures from Père Lachaise are slowly--ever so slowly-- going up on flickr. My internet connection at the apartment has skydived into a very fleeting, rare thing nowadays. I really hate that. I am blaming it for my inability to study, because I spent all day Sunday running from MacDo to MacDo to snobby internet cafe to Starbucks, trying to find a wifi signal. And alas, there were none. I ended up downloading the first episode of "The Office" while I was taking my Versailles lit class, and I was in love. That episode? Seriously one of the best. Anyways.

Today after my last exam, I went over to the Tuileries to try and find the Viktor and Rolf show. After buying a book at the WHSmith (bliss!), finding a cheap black umbrella without "Paris" stamped across it (miracle!), and following a TV crew to the tent (crafty!), I settled in and waited.

It rained off and on, but I had plenty to do. I just squeezed along one of the metal barricades right in front of the entrance and people-watched. About half an hour before the show, tons of important people started showing up. I saw Nina Garcia ("fashion director from Elle magazine"... thanks, Project Runway)

Linda Wells (editor at Allure)

Hamish Bowles (Vogue)

and a few fashion-y people I recognized from watching TV5 in Boston.

My place by the barricade happened to be the main entrance for all the important people with "seated" invitations (they had chairs to sit in, unlike the common photographer/assistant folk, who got shoveled to the side to wait for their standing room only spot). The list bitch was also there, so I got to hear a few people crying to her about losing invitations, waiting for people inside, and not being on the list she flapped at their faces. She was extremely not nice (as her position demands), but she knew her shit-- any important person, like a major magazine journalist or a tall, skinny person (rich society ladies, I'm assuming), was immediately hustled in past the guards without any questions.

After the flood was over and the order came through-- "Fermez la porte!" I stuck around for a few more minutes, hoping to get an Anna Wintour-caliber celeb. And then! Kanye sashayed up with his Amazonian girlfriend, and the list bitch SPRANG! into action and he got past me in seconds.


Everyone left outside by the Barrier Of Bargaining chilled out for 15 minutes and listened to the music from the show. And then it was over. All the people from inside rushed back out, cheek-kissing and swirling their expensive bags around. I got some more pictures of the ones I recognized again, and then I moved to the other side to get a few pictures of the models.

They all had pink shiny blush along their entire temples, and most of them had different hairstyles. I definitely recognized one model (I think her name is Agyness-- she's British and the new thing in modeling, according to EVERYONE), and the rest just sort of danced around with their bones clacking together.

After another few minutes, Kanye came back out and posed obligingly for the paps. As soon as he started walking away, though, he was completely left alone. I followed him from a respectful distance, and it seemed like most people didn't recognize him. It was almost funny, because I could see tourists thronging the gardens with their cheap little cameras, trying to get good pictures of the Place de la Concorde. But almost no one picked out the relatively major celebrity walking around.

A gyspy asked Kanye and his girlfriend if they "speek Eeenglish?" and that made me laugh out loud-- I watched them get crêpes and cotton candy, and then called it a day and took the metro back.


All the pictures will hopefully be up tomorrow, but no guarantees.