Pages

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Now I know who Eric Bompard is.


Not that I can speak about style. I mean I am always slagging off about people in the media who clearly are style gurus - and remember the terrible shellacking I gave poor Herr Lagerfeld. And he positively reeks of style. That glove! If I wore a glove like that people would think that I was a complete Ponce - but when he does it. Well! 
And I simply don’t have a single style bone in my body. It’s not my fault – I grew up poor so had no money for clothes when I was young and then I became a successful banker and only ever wore pin-striped suits and shirts to match.
I had a lot of ties. Maybe a 100 or so. I remember that Cate described my collection of shirts and ties as ‘Hideous’. 
In fact – when she was required to choose a shirt and tie from my collection for me to wear to a wedding she spent a long time looking but was unable to do so. We had to go out and buy a new shirt and tie for the occasion.
It’s only since I met Cate that I have had the slightest semblance of style and that is because she has taken complete charge.
Sure I tried to be ├╝ber cool for a while by wearing Jeans and black T-shirts but this never really worked  and I just looked like a poor man’s Steve Jobs.
But Cate grew weary of black T-Shirts and truthfully so did I. She got to hate the color and the shape and I got to hate the white fur. I am guessing that Mr. Jobs does not have a black and white Cat - or a Reindeer rug.  
My black T-Shirts were like a Cat magnet and I forever looked like the inside of a clothes dryer lint basket had been emptied over me.
So now I wear Charcoal colored Banana Republic T-Shirts (fitted)  – but these are Banana Republic T-Shirts without Logos so they are not at all naff.  Although my Jeans are decidedly naff because they are worn and shredded through wear.
These days you are supposed to buy Jeans that look like they have been washed with razor blades then thrown into a cement mixer with cement and blue metal. This is a good look. Jeans that are worn out are just boff (in the French sense).
Because Cate has impeccable taste I buy that which she thinks I should. Only on very rare occasions do I buy something on my own – and I did this in Paris.
I happen to think that Turtleneck tops are fashionable. This probably means that they are not. I rather suspect that they went out of fashion when Dirk Bogarde died but as far as I am concerned his look is still alive. Dirk was one of the coolest dudes who ever lived.
But I am nothing if not old fashioned so I rather fancy that I look dashing in this type of apparel.  I imagine that most other people look at me and think I should be on the Galapagos Islands with others of my ilk but I live in my own little world - and so what.
My current Turtleneck Sweater is ancient and while I treasure it I know that it will not last forever.  So I on my last trip to Paris I was passing Printemps Homme and I thought to myself ‘Why not?’
The Sales Assistants in Paris are no less helpful that they are in Vienna so it took me a considerable amount of time to find anything at all that resembled a Turtleneck Sweater but I found one – and only one – in a boutique which went by the name of Eric Bompard. I did not know the name Eric Bompard then – but I do now.
A lovely young man bundled me into it and bundled me out of it. He was so young and beautiful and bright eyed - as only young people can be. He was so pleased for me. It was perfect. The color was delicious. I had found my dream sweater.
How could Monsieur  even consider not buying it. All I had to do was pay. How much was it? I had not looked at the price tag. That much? Goodness gracious me! WTF is it made of?
Oh I see Monsieur is having trouble letting go of his credit card – let me prise it from his fingers for him. Voila! C’est Fini!
It was in a dreamlike state that I handed over my credit card and watched him pack this precious object lovingly in tissue paper and hand it triumphantly to me in an Eric Bompard bag.
Au Revoir Monsieur. Enjoy your stay in Paris!
I sometimes take it out of its tissue paper and caress it. I wear silk gloves when I do this. It is very, very beautiful and I like to hold it to my cheek and sniff it.
It is like gossamer. If I toss it lightly into the air it floats down to earth. Fairies could use it to make their wings.
Of course I could never wear it. It is too precious.
I shall leave it to my children. 

4 comments:

  1. I can only imagine how much that set you back. Ouch.

    I loathe shopping, make-up, fussing with my hair, etc. I'm surprised The Husband doesn't keep me locked up because I'm barely presentable to the public.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Gold-leafed frame, sweater mounted with a colour-coordinated passe·-partout ("mat" in less precious circumstances, not to be confused with what Le Palin travels with) and behind armoured glass - I am sure there's a frame shop somewhere in the First District specializing in wearable art! ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  3. I think your recent purchase outdoes the Hugo Boss underwear by a considerable amount. But I have a question:

    Has Cate thrown out your old one?

    If so, you'll be forced to wear it... unless you can find a keen knitting lady in Wien to provide you with a copy. That said, it's Spring, isn't it? So you'd be putting your frog jumper into mothballs for six months at least, surely?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Jessica: Hmm...you look very presentable to me.

    Merisi: Can't afford the frame after Muffin.

    Annie: It is so light I can wear it in summer. I cannot throw the old one out - because I love it so.

    ReplyDelete