Cecily: Fall into life. For if you go gently, you may never know the joys of wearing both pink and red in a single outfit.
fashion
Alexander, on June.
Alexander: And my semi-obscure French word for June is rightfully, in my opinion anyway, “frisson”.
Cecily, on Nicolas.
Cecily: Why Nicolas, you’re looking incredibly Bogart today. You’re practically coffee stained and singed around the edges.
Cecily, on her work, her passion.
Cecily: I am a Creative Strategist. I may not save lives, but I sure as hell guarantee the emotional wellbeing of aesthetes.
Cecily, on Parisian floods.
Cecily: Arise fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale under fucking rain clouds.
Two friends, on Arrabbiata
Cecly: Raj drinks Coca Cola out of an old pasta sauce jar. In my mind, this is next level hipster. However, I doubt hipsters would deign to buy Prego® Arrabbiata.
Alexander: Oh, rest assured, my personal drinking cups are fashioned from non-GMO, organic, single-ingredient peanut butter jars. I sincerely wish I were joking.
Two friends, on art.
Cecily: Your art always has a peace to it. This seems at odds with your mental state at times.
Arnaud: My states of mind are the consequence of the gap between what I would like the world to be – peaceful, intelligent, etc. – and what it is in actuality.
Two friends, on a manicure.
Christian: Are you enjoying your manicure?
Cecily: I am still at work, so one could say it’s still in its ideation phase.
Cecily, to Alexander.
Cecily: I like your sweater. It says “I’m-Yves-Saint-Laurent-chilling-out-at-home-after-a-psychotic-episode”-chic.
Cecily, waltzing through the Tuileries.
Cecily: Oh just listen to the jingle-jangle of the mini Eiffel Tower key rings and see the glossy skin of the unnecessarily handsome African salesmen!
thedailymails 