the europeans have descended on fifth avenue, a swarm of fedoras, fur, and cigarettes, their wet j.m. weston footprints branded onto the avenue like cigar stubs in a dunhill ashtray. jovial, whiskered men in long double-breasted polo coats pause outside bergdorf goodman while their frosted, coyote-trimmed wives walk up to the windows and sigh, overwhelmed by the possibilities, reminding me of what it must have felt like to be an american in paris in 1984. when the stuff was cheap; when you could actually afford it. it's been so long since i've visited, and it will be so long until i go again.
but let's not dwell.
i mean jesus christo, i aint' starvin'. i just ate two cupcakes at an office birthday party. sometimes duncan hines is better than the real thing. sometimes.
anyway, do you like salmon?
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3 comments:
I, like the salmon, am driven by primordial instincts.
You sure know how to throw around those similes. What do you remember about the strong dollar of '84?
i remember climbing the eiffel tower on a gray parisian day and ordering 2 eggs and 12 coming to the table and eating 536 cadbury flake bars in england and dancing with the flamenco dancers in spain on new year's at 10:30 and thinking it was midnight. thanks for that, P & H!
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