Louvre

After about 15 minutes at the Louvre, I wanted to Leavre.  I did manage to invent what is likely the most irreverent game in the world of fine art: adding sarcastic captions under priceless works of art.  Let's play!

"Umm, waiter?"

"There's risque and then there's just asking to get rufied."

"Ah!  Cut it out, Bryce!"

I don't like Joanna Newsome's new album cover.

"You're sure you never hooked up with the archangel Gabriel?  I don't care, it's just...our baby has wings."

I invite you to add your own caption!

Paris, 1.

I just returned from my first non-work trip to Paris, and although I'd been several times, I was terribly excited to have it to myself.  I did, however, go in late November, which suits me just fine weather-wise, but Parisian fashion only shines in the summer and is about as dazzling as a men's room trough in the colder seasons.  If you're into smartening up for the chillier weather, skip Paris and go to London or Milan.

I bought the following to prepare for the trip:

Band of Outsiders black twill with white button eyelets from South Willard in XS.  

That's one thing you can say about Los Angeles over New York.  No matter how put together you are in New York, It always looks like you've gone through some effort.  California is fucking effortless and this line epitomizes California non-effort cool.

Gant Rugger One-Button Flannel Blazer.
Not quite willing to stuff my Dior into a garment band and put it through check-in, so I nabbed this, the last one in XS, at the Gant Flagship on 51st.  Unstructured blazers never fit me quite correctly, but this did the charm.  Perfect length on the sleeve, snug at the shoulders, which enough give for a cardigan underneath.  Good as a top layer on cool nights, good as a middle on certifiably cold nights.

Altadena Works Rucksack in navy and acorn.
See, this is what I mean by "knowing what's what."  I'm the only person in New York who has one of these lovelies, so I'm reluctant to post this.  Right now, the Altadena Rucksack is what's what.  Just look at it.

So yeah.  This is what I took to Paris.  Stuff I took back, including pics, in subsequent posts.

The first of a series of blogged musings by Louis Flowers.

Hello.  These are the blogged musings of me, Louis Flowers, and this is the first blogging.  I've never had the impulse to start a blog.  The reasons are severalfold.

1st.  I've never given that large of a fuck.  It is usually those who care deeply about what it is they're blogging about to start a blog about anything, but I, as a rule, don't give too much of care for anything/one/body/where.

2nd.  I know what's what, and I'd prefer to keep it to myself.  To explain, remember when the Ace opened and it was the shit for about 7 months, and then Time Out New York (I call it TONY because I'm busy), did a story on it?  Now, The Ace sucks a large amount of navy seals balls.  The take away: when fewer people know what's what, what's what stays what's what.

3rd.  I don't have "friends" per se, but associates and people I've winking emoticon associated with.  So even if I gave a fuck, who would give a fuck about the fuck I give?  All the more incentive to never give a fuck.

I can go on, and I assure you the litany gets better and cheekier and all the better for the cheek.  I am, however, increasingly bored between projects and I have become aware of a certain tendency of mine to spend spare hours at the gym, especially between 7:00 p.m and 10:00 p.m because I am, or at least allow myself to believe, that I am not yet tired.  The March issue of a magazine I don't read calls this a symptom of "manorexia"which left unchecked can lead to full blown anorexia.  I, as a rule, don't take medical advice from magazines that feature Megan Fox on the cover, but it put a fright in me, nonetheless.

So here it is, my new 7:00 to 10:00 pastime.