Image realities

Yes, well, I always said you have to be careful who you pretend to be. And after all these years, it does look like I have become a petite dame bourgeoise du 7eme! This morning I strolled down rue Cler, post-church in my silk suit and heels, to sit with my usual coffee and croissant and people-watching at Tribeca, cellphone in hand. It was only after, on my way home, that I saw the image. With a newspaper and vegetables stashed in a leather bag slung over my shoulder, I was clutching a bag with pots of basil and parsley in one hand, and a bouquet of flowers in the other, the obligatory baguettes under my arm, looking at windows and stopping to chat first with a friend, then a vendor.

Not that I mind the image - but where will it end? Better polish that longterm vision, would much rather emulate those still-elegant 80-year-olds in the neighbourhood rather than the grey-haired hippie mommas. Ah, oui - meme si au fond je sentirai toujours non-conformiste...