En Garde! Frou Frou! De la merde! Cognac de la merde!!

Anything sounds really cool in Ze frenchy-french.
Merde!
A tout alors!
Ah, Regarde Mama! Une Bijouterie!
Mon petit couchon, c'est un Boulangeri!
Need some sleep, obviously.
Vintage, Denim, Shirts, Fashion, Furniture, Cooking.
Real men aren't fit
Arctic Monkeys are out, ARCTIC FOXES are in!


"Big Document" by Saul Steinberg. Just a lot of fake signs, seals and mumbo jumbo wording. Genious.

Louis Lunch










Add the fact that I took the red-eye down here and got up 4.15 am this
morning after sleeping about 2 hrs, and you get the level of love I'm
feeling for KLM airlines right now.

To concernded readers (yeah right..) I want to point out that I
religiously stick to one cigarette per day.
Except when travelling (always), enjoying a good meal (breakfast,
lunch, dinner), an "espresso doppo pranzo" (2 times per day) or just a
cold brewski after work (once every two months)
I gotta get my priorities straight.
The one that surfaces from your subconcious every now and then. A
memory so fond you don't want to think of it too often.
Afraid you might wear it out, that it will loose it's precioussness.
At the same time you need to think of it often enough to remember the
details, the nuances, the smells.
That perfect weekend.
The one when everybody was there. Nothing clouded either sky or mind.
You ate, drank, danced and fell in love. (with the right girl for once).
You awake by the sunbeams warming your body, underneath a flannel
blanket that smells like "countryhouse".
You yawn, curl up under the blanket and just smile, in spite of the
hangover.
It's a smile bigger than life itself and it suddenly hits you:
It doesn't get any better than this. This very moment, this very
place, this is as good as it gets.
Almost had one of those moments during middle of the week going
through Spring 2010 pictures with MD70 in NYC last week.
Good stuff dudes, good stuff.

By the way, teleporting a huge hug to everyone at MD70 for their
outstanding performance during the shoot.
And to Guy Aroch, the photographer...We simply love you man, hands
down one of the coolest men on the planet.

Humble as ever.
On the other hand, at Newark International, you even look security in
the eyes and they'll book you.
Every time I come to Newark bordercontrol, I have these compulsive
thoughts: "OK, this time, I'm gonna tell the "homeland security" dude
to go fuck himself if he's rude, for real"
And every time it ends up the same way..
- 'You eyeballin me?
- No Sir, I'm not.
- What are you doing here?
- Ehrm, visiting maybe? Like the rest of the 400 people waiting in
line? In scorching heat I might add.
- Why are you visiting the US?
- But for christ sake!! It's like this every single time I come here!
I just spent a gazillion dollars on a ticket to your country.
The only thing I want to do is spend money and then go back home and
tell everybody how fantastic NYC is.
I fuckin had it with this Homeland Security bullshit, either close the
fucking border or start treating people civilized.
- That's it, you're going to Guantanamo fucker!
- No No No!! Wait, I was just thinking out loud!!
Until the US border control policy changes, (and the utterly rude
staff is sent to kindergarten) I will concider Obama no more than a
puppet on a string in the hands of the Right Wing Christians.
She says I'm overly ambitious, addicted to Acetone and always put way
too much effort into things.
(She's right, I need to cool it a bit, I've been like the fucking
energizer bunny lately)
Whenever I get the chance I do Acetone printing.
It's a neat little trick I learned from Richard Hutchinson like 10
years ago when we worked at Acne together.
We threw a surprise dinner for a friend at Teatergrillen in Stockholm
the other day.
Made a note and a label for the birthday boy. Printed on the backside
of an antique french label and a sheet of paper (from 1905) pulled it
out from one of the old textile books I have laying around everywhere
these days.
Hopefully, we will have a bike on display in their window come next
january when we launch the first ever Gant Bike!
The banner looks like a five year old with Tourettes made it. It's
utter rubbish.
A few years ago I bought a book called "Mai 68" at Dover Street
Market. It's by far the most expensive book I've ever bought, but
worth every penny. It was published the same year as the french
student revolution in May 1968 and is a "best of" of the posters that
where created by artists and students during the turmoil in support of
the students, opposing the Government.
The first sentence of the book reads "Every revolution has it's style".
Hot tip to the anti-IPRED dudes:
If you are going to protest, please do so with some style, or do not
protest at all, thank you.
P Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail
P Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail







P Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail
P Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail









The question "What music do I choose for the catwalk without revealing
how totally fucking clueless I really am?" got answered today.
It's perfection, I even found a way of remixing it with the intro from
"Geraldine" (!)
Clueless or not, once again, I rule.
The album cover on the other hand is.....an airbrushed fantasy
nightmare, like Siegfried & Roy on extasy.
P Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail
P Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail.
(I really do hate that phraze that is automatically encluded when I post from via e-mail. I'd rather have global warming)
P Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail
Now, there's a million ways to swing a Bouillabaisse, this is the no
brainer version.
You'll need:
A pound of fresh or frozen shrimp. (in the shell)
400 grams of fresh salmon. Cut in 1/2 inch size cubes.
400 grams of Cod, cut as above.
A bag of mussels / clams / almejas, whatever.
Fennel, thinly sliced.
Saffron (2 grams)
Cream
For the Fish stock. (Make your own, or die)
Bone & Head from any white fish, (for the stock only)
Tomato paste.
One apple
Garlic. (5-6 smashed cloves)
2 Shallots
White wine.
Any dry white will do for the stock.
I reccommend a Chardonnay to go with it, it's da bomb with saffron for
some reason.
First, make the stock.
Throw all the shrimpshell & fish bone/head into a hot pan with olive
oil and 3 hole garlic cloves.
Stir and add 2 tbl spoons of tomato paste / purée, and 2 finely
chopped shallots.
Let it get some colour and then add half a bottle of white wine.
(Make sure you scrape the bottom of the pan to get all them nice
flavours out)
By now your kitchen should smell like heaven or something is wrong.
Add 1 litre of boiling water and some of the sliced fennel and half an
apple.
Let it simmer for 25 minutes on low heat.
Sift, throw away the shells etc.
Add the saffron, and then the cream.
Add the rest of the sliced fennel and simmer for another 10 minutes.
Bring to a boil and add the mussels & fish, put a lid on it and boil
for 4 minutes.
Before serving you add some shrimp tails to each soup bowl and pour
the soup on top.
(Do not throw them into the pot and boil, they'll just go all chewy on
you)
Croutons
White bread cut into cubes, fried in olive oil AND butter with some
garlic, herbes de provence & sea salt.
Aioli
Whip together Mayo, some fresh lemon juice and a crushed garlic clove.
Once again, I rule.
(Pic stolen from the web)
P
Go Hanna!
(Soon you'll by me a 1978 Porshe Targa, right?)
P
























