Last posts on Paris

Parisian Man Writes Voyeur's Guide to French Women

2008-05-06T01:08:38+02:00

Books about sex rarely cause much of a stir -- at least not in France -- but Pierre-Louis Colin's book "Guide des jolies femmes de Paris" is not only raising eyebrows with the "stuffy" anglosaxons in the US and UK, it's also getting the French all worked up. In his defense, the book isn't a sex guide at all, just a list of places where you can ogle Parisien women of all ages and styles. Read more about on my Secrets of Paris blog.

Fetish Home Shopping

2008-03-01T00:59:17+01:00

In case anyone was still wondering if fetish is really mainstream or not, check out the latest Paris metro billboard for Galeries Lafayette Maison (the home decor branch of the historic Parisian department store):

They could have shown sofas, blenders, cute little vases or a tool set, but instead they have a woman dressed in stiletto boots, latex catsuits and elbow-length gloves, and a smoking rooftop on her head...maybe they're trying to get more (heterosexual) men interested in home decor! (okay, there *is* a nice Philippe Starck chair there, but who the heck is looking at *that*?!)

Fashion-forward Fetish Party

2007-12-03T22:34:08+01:00

Fetish in Paris soirées tend to have a younger age average (30-something) than most fetish events. Perhaps it's because the emphasis is on the outrageous fetish fashions instead of BDSM dungeon stuff? Or maybe it's because one of the organizers is a young fetishwear designer herself, Mademoiselle Ilo.

Fetish Book Launch This Friday at Nuits Blanches

2007-12-03T22:23:20+01:00

Naughty Book Exhibit at the National Library

2007-11-25T17:25:00+01:00

The Bibliothèque Nationale de France - François Mitterrand (13th, M° Bibliothèque) will be displaying its special collection of banned books in an exhibition called "L'Enfer de la Bibliothèque, Eros au Secret" from December 4, 2007 through March 2, 2008. Rumor and intrigue have surrounded this mysterious collection of books -- called L'Enfer (Hell) -- for many years. Kept away from public eyes in a special reserve, the books include erotic literature, inflammatory political pamphlets, and even pornographic photography. The exhibition, interdit to those under 16, covers both the creation and maintenance of L'Enfer, as well as the books themselves. Open Tues-Sat 10am-7pm, Sun 1-7pm. Entry €7.

Parisian Fetish Club Reopening Party

2007-11-20T16:55:00+01:00

Paris' most famous fetish club, Cris et Chuchotements, is closed from November 1-22 for renovations. There will be a grand reopening party on November 23. Do call before heading up there...we all know how building projects stay on schedule here in France!The next Slave Auction party will be December 1.

The Biggest Fetish Party in France

2007-11-14T23:10:00+01:00

It's time for the 8th annual Nuit Démonia, one of the biggest fetish parties in Europe. No matter if you've never been to a fetish party in your life, get out that sexy latex Halloween costume and check out the action! The big night is December 6 at Le Loco (90 boulevard de Clichy, 18th, next door to the Moulin Rouge) from 10pm until 5am, but there are events taking place from the 4th through the 9th. Entry is €40 if you buy your tickets in advance, €50 at the door.

Check out the short video of the event here.

Guidebook Shoot: Day 9-10

2007-08-04T08:15:00+02:00

Tuesday July 31 is our final day and night of shooting for the Naughty Paris Guide. Kirsten heads back to Toronto on Wednesday morning, so we have to make sure we get the must-have shots today. We start off rather late, at 2pm, because we know we'll be up late shooting night-time images. The day begins at a beauty spa, the Boudoir du Marais. I've visited the place before and liked the decor, very pretty with exposed stone walls and elegant chandeliers and mirrors. However, when we arrive it seems like the place has been almost emptied out. "Are you getting ready to close up for the summer?" I ask. "No, we just moved in today. I bought the spa from the former owner." Ah hah. She assures me that they will not change it at all. This is the most difficult aspect of writing any guidebook, the fact that places close, redecorate, or otherwise change completely between time of researching and the time of publication. I settle in for a manicure (I'm the hand model today, and dammit I need a manicure!) while Kirsten begins photographing the decor elements. The spa has a manicure "bar" and you can rent the whole place for private parties.

I'm more of a blood-red nail polish kind of girl, but my friends keep telling me that's not very "summer", so I go for the most obnoxious shade of bubble-gum pink. I can't help but think that I'm not tan enough (or blonde enough) to pull this off. After my manicure, we go to lunch and the photographer has to return to her hotel to upload the photos so she has enough memory space to continue shooting (yes, this is all done with a digital SLR, so instead of carrying around rolls of film, she's carrying memory cards). We arrange to meet up with Stephen Clarke for a cameo shot.

Stephen reading a Parisian newspaper article about sexual habits of the French.We are running a bit late for one of the most difficult shoots of the whole guide, Cris et Chuchotements, the last full-time fetish and s/m club in Paris. I was going to take the car, but 6pm traffic is looking bad so I think it will be easier to cross town on the metro. We happen to meet a fellow American, Byron, traveling around Paris with one of my guidebooks sticking out of his pocket (the Michelin Green Guide Paris). He's heading the same direction, so conveniently helps clear a path through the crowded metro so we could get out with all of the equipment in one piece. "We definitely need to hire a caddy/bodyguard/assistant next time we do this," says Kirsten. I wholeheartedly agree.On the way to the club the photographer spots some oysters she wants to shoot in front of the Wepler Brasserie (Place de Clichy). I distract the oyster guy with questions about eating them during the months without "R" in them while Kirsten shoots away. So we're almost a half hour late for our fetish club appointment, not usually a problem in France, but a problem today. It's 7pm and the owner has to leave at 7:30pm, barely enough time for the model to change and for Kirsten to set up and adjust to the low lights.

My camera flash lights up the whole bar area, where Kirsten is quickly setting up.We pick just two rooms to photograph, the bar area (which looks pretty harmless aside from a basket of riding crops next to the sofa and a pair of hand cuffs casually hanging from a hook) and one of the "play" rooms with a large bird cage and other light restraining devices. We do not shoot in the whipping room (the light wasn't good), nor the "medical exam" room (too creepy). I should mention the club is closed, so we are the only ones in there, bumbling around in the dark and trying not to trip over the various steps.

I was surprised this one came out so well: the model in her fetishwear dress and the photographer peeking out from under the spiral stairs.After being shoo'd out of here rather quickly, we hop in a taxi and head to the Pont Neuf for some sunset shots with models Marcus and Eva, who are running about 15 minutes behind us. The two weeks of shooting, last-day exhaustion, and the endless rushing around finally break down our gentle Canadian photographer and she starts embracing her inner obnoxious photographer. She kicks a couple (politely) out of the little balcony we want to use (it's in the perfect place for the back ground and angle of the light) and quickly get the models in the right poses before we lose the light.

From Kirsten's point of view.She's standing on the other side of the bridge, too far away for the models to hear her directions, so I'm standing next to them with a cell phone, repeating the orders that Kirsten is barking out. "Tell her to put her left leg up." "Tell him to pull her closer at the hips." "Stop posing, just act natural!" and finally, all decorum breaks down and I hear Kirsten yell, "Act like you want to f*** his brains out!" (she tells me later she was aware of a few passers-by coming to a halt at that point)I pause (probably blushing)....then I say, "Act like you really want to be in a room alone right now!" The models, bless them, finally get it and Kirsten gets her shot.

From my point of view on the bridge (it looks like Eva is biting his head off from this angle!)The models don't actually know each other in "that way", but they fake it pretty well! I considered at one point just finding couples kissing on the bridge and asking their permission to shoot them for the guide, but there are so many factors to consider:- will they be dressed right?- will they keep doing the same thing over and over until we've got the perfect shot?- will they let us make them stand in very unnatural poses which actually appear more natural on film? There are so many things we can't control in the photo sessions, that we decide against this and go with our own models. We then make Eva and Marcus stand under the Pont Neuf (which is more typically sexy than romantic). We all have to breathe through our mouths because the stench of urine is a bit too strong (not very romantic, indeed). The next shot involved the woman straddling the man on a marble bench. Bless her (again) for trying so hard to pretend her knees weren't in excruciating pain while Kirsten kept promising "Almost done!" And that was the last shoot with the models. We celebrated with dinner at l'Ecluse at St-Michel, then rushed back out at midnight to shoot one the Musée de l'Erotisme before it closed (at 2am). We detoured at the Eiffel Tower while Kirsten searched for the angle that the taxi took her past the night before, so we didn't arrive at Pigalle again until 1am. No one else was in the museum that night, so it was pretty easy to get in a few good shots without worrying about avoiding the public.

I perused the visitor's book at the museum, and found quite a few notes from women like this.

The famous "tongue chair" in the front window of the museum. Pigalle at 2am is always lively (bus loads of Moulin Rouge clients, of course), but not necessarily the place you feel comfortable as a woman walking around with very expensive camera equipment. Luckily the peep show hawkers don't bother the women (they're looking to pull in the men walking around), so we quickly take a few pics of the neon windmill at the Moulin Rouge and then go back to the car. We return to a more elegant district of Paris: the Place Vendôme, Champs-Elysées, Avenue Montaigne, etc., where the photographer gets some night shots of the facades.

This is the absolute very last and final photo shoot (I took this from the car as she set up her tripod on the square). I sleep for two hours while the photographer packs up, then we drive to Ladurée for a final breakfast (and macarons!) before I drop her off at Charles de Gaulle airport at 9:30am. That's all folks! For the rest of the month, while the rest of the country is on vacation, I will be finishing up the text editing while Kirsten processes the photographs and the designer creates the final layout. When will you get to see the final Naughty Paris Guide? Stay tuned...a small number of copies will be available by the holidays, before the official launch in January 2008. Bisous, and good night!Heather signing off....

Guidebook Shoot: Day 8

2007-08-03T10:11:19+02:00

After a few days' break, the photographer returns from the French Riviera for two final days of Naughty Paris shooting in Paris. I was able to get a few more appointments settled, but we have a lot to cover in a short time. On Monday morning we begin at Le Bon Marché department store, shooting images of the Théâtre de Beauté (that's a fancy name for the Cosmetics and Perfume Department). If you just walk into a department store (well, most stores, actually) and start shotting photos, you'll have a very angry staff on your back very quickly. At the Bon Marché we had to get special badges AND a letter from the PR director giving us permission to take photos. We had to whip out the letter several times, and even with it the woman at the Chanel counter was being officious and making a lot of phone calls to find out whether it was really okay for us to have our model photographed in front of a huge bottle of Chanel n°5. Since I didn't think we had time to sit around and wait, we just left and found another stand that wouldn't hassle us.

The people at Guerlaine were very polite, and the makeup artist Sebastien even agreed to do a little impromptu make-over on our model for the camera.

Nicole's Mona Lisa smile.After the Bon Marché we broke for lunch. But we don't ever really get breaks. Kirsten continued shooting photos as we walked to the café in the Jardins du Luxembourg. I had to keep an eye out for the park guards (professional shooting in the Paris parks requires a permit, so anyone with a tripod or even a fancy-looking camera will get stopped). Luckily the guards seem to be on vacation already, and we have no problems. The sun is a bit too strong, creating contrasts that don't photograph well. Who knew that the pros actually prefer overcast days? We meet up with writer Stephen Clarke (author of the best-selling Year in the Merde series) at lunch. I know Kirsten is a huge fan, so I ask him if he'll do a cameo appearance in the book for us (see Day 9).

Stephen checking out Kirsten's camera. We're running a little late (slow waiter), so being the cruel boss lady that I am, I herd Kirsten to the next appointment before her noisette café arrives. We have a rendez-vous with Victoria Vesta, the Pleasure Coach. My friends are all quite intrigued by the idea of a Pleasure Coach. Even after visiting Victoria's website, Divine Feminine Touch, they are still full of questions. "So what exactly does she do?" being the most common. She teaches men, women, and couples how to touch each other. She does sensual massage to help people learn about their own erogenous zones. She talks to people, helping them find their own sensuality and remove whatever might be blocking that in their lives....et cetera. No, there's no sex. She's not that kind of masseuse.

The Boudoir.So, that out the way, back to the shoot. The room where the sessions take place is very dark, so Kirsten gets to work setting up the tripod and testing different angles and lighting. I check out the cool feathers (used in the massage), but start getting worried about our female model, who seems to be MIA. We begin with the male model on the table, and I end up standing in as a hand model (this isn't the only time you'll see my hands in the book), with Victoria showing me how to massage the model. There's a bit of a debate about whether the model's bare bottom should be seen in the guide or not. After all, this is a lady's guide, and even if it's implied, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with showing it. We compromise with a strategically-placed feather and everyone is happy (good thing the model isn't ticklish).

The model's legs and Victoria's hand.Our female model hasn't been answering her phone because she forgot it at home and had been standing outside the metro station hoping I'd come find her (she didn't have the address with her either). That finally cleared up, we take the rest of the photos and then head back out to take some shopping photos around Place St-Sulpice.

Our model's in a playful mood as always (which is sooooooo helpful, since Kirsten and I need the energy boost at this point), and hops onto a red Vespa parked in the square. I pray that it doesn't tip over, or that the owner isn't sitting on the café terrace across the street glaring at us. It is a cute Vespa, and I wish we could have her riding around on one with her shopping bags. Alas, as cute as it may be, how many people visiting Paris rent a scooter? Hmmmm....maybe more SHOULD.

We say good bye to our model Nicole and head home for a short break before meeting two other models for more shopping pics on the Avenue Montaigne. We get there at about 8:30pm so we have good light (and minimum foot traffic from shoppers). I window shop while Kirsten directs the models (basically, walking back and forth a million times until the shot looks "natural"). I continuously herd the bystanders out of the camera's range, and carry around Kirsten's tripod like a caddy (we decide that we'll hire a caddy for the next guidebook. And a personal masseuse).

Kirsten shows the models how to walk while I guard the camera.The sun is almost down, but the day is not over. One of the restaurants in the guide, Ginger, is right around the corner, and we need some night shots of the dining room. The models are starving, so we kill two birds with one stone. Ginger is surprisingly full for a Monday night on July 30, so we decide to start at the bar where we won't disturb anyone. We ask the barman Sophana to mix us some pretty cocktails (pretty strong, that is) for the models, while Kirsten and I continue on our Perrier diets.

Kirsten goes over the day's shoot with the models.

Pho at Ginger...must feed the models...By the time enough clients have left to get shots of the dining room, it's almost midnight. We celebrate with a nightcap (wine for me, Champagne for Kirsten, who says that bars in Toronto don't serve it by the glass like they do in Paris). I put her in a taxi soon after. She calls ten minutes later to tell me she has seen the perfect spot to shoot the foot of the Eiffel Tower. I ask her how, between the Champs-Elysées and the Latin Quarter, she ended up passing the foot of the Eiffel Tower. She barely speaks French, so I think her taxi driver was giving her the "tourist tour" of the city. Sigh. I ask her to make sure she gets a receipt. Tomorrow is our last day of shooting. I can barely sleep, hoping that we're not forgetting anything important. Come back tomorrow to see a sneak peek inside the only fetish club left in Paris!

Guidebook Shoot: Day 7

2007-08-02T11:00:00+02:00

I'm not sure where our energy is coming from. Sheer willpower at this point! I pull up in front of the photographer's hotel at 5:55am. I had promised her and the model that I'd bring some pain au chocolat, but the local bakery still isn't open.

The model is waiting for us on the Quai Voltaire, and we drive as fast as possible through morning traffic to get to the foot of the Eiffel Tower before the sun comes up. I try and remind myself that we won't get there any faster if I get us run over by the big Shell truck on our tail. The Champ de Mars is filthy in the morning, littered with garbage, overflowing plastic trash bags, and crows picking through it. The model is a trooper, though, and walks around barefoot after we check for bottle caps and broken glass. Kirsten figures she can Photoshop the trash out if it gets in the picture, but luckily during the course of the half-hour shoot, the municipal workers manage to get it all cleaned up (they actually walk around and clean it up on foot with their claw tools).

After getting the picture we want, we head over to the nearest bakery that's open and sit down for some breakfast. I drop off the model back at her place and then Kirsten at Orly airport. She'll be down on the Côte d'Azur for a few days shooting for own private portfolio (the South of France has an amazing quality of light that you don't get anywhere else in France).

I go back home and sleep for the rest of the day. The photographer will only be back for three days before returning to Toronto, so I need to make sure all of the last-minute appointments are settled and that we have the models on board. There are a few places that we haven't received permission to shoot yet, so I have to get a bit more aggressive....or get creative! Check back on August 3 for Day 8!!

Guidebook Shoot: Day 6

2007-07-30T18:05:00+02:00

Tuesday starts off well enough at YOBA, a beautiful lingerie and toy boutique just off the Tuileries Gardens. The summer sales are still on, so it's hard not to do a little shopping while the model and photographer are at work.

Afterwards we go to another boutique, Phylea, which specializes in fantasy corsets and fetishwear. We get Nicole all laced up in a traditional corset and tell her not to pass out until we're done shooting. We shoot in the doorway and start drawing a small audience of bystanders. We also get her in a purple rubber dress, but after her cell phone rings in the changing room we have to wrap up as she zooms off to put out a fire back home (figurative, folks, calm down).

We all reconvene later at the Experimental Cocktail Club near Montorgueil, a stylish little design bar run by three young French gentlemen who do indeed have some fabulous cocktails! The Perfect Agave is the first cocktail with Tequila that I've ever liked (well, ever since that incident in Arizona in 1992....). I recruited some more friends to act as the "crowd", but there was already a real one there, so we had to artfully block them from view. Kirsten had half the bar sign model releases in the end anyway, just in case.

The model was sick of me always hiding behind the camera, so here I am, officially on break, drinking a Perrier (not very experimental, but it keeps me going!)Afterwards Kirsten and I went to Le Paris-Paris to meet up with Nicolas Ullmann for the last Ullmann Cabarock of the season. We're not shooting the Paris-Paris, just picking up Nicolas so we can photograph him at Le Baron afterwards. It was absolutely packed, and Nicolas had a hard time pulling us into the door. Unfortunately we immediately lost him while he went back out to rescue more friends from the sidewalk crowd pushing against the velvet ropes.

Nicolas (left) singing at the final season Cabarock at Le Paris-Paris. Le Baron is dark and red. And dark. And crowded and small and smoky. And it's one of the best parties in town! Butthe staff are not in a party mood since Nicolas has invited the entire crowd from Paris-Paris to come to Le Baron, which is a quarter of the size. They see Kirsten doing light tests with her huge camera and start freaking out. We explain what we're doing (and more importantly, that we're with Nicolas), but they seem intent on kicking us out. We're saved by Nicolas at the last moment, when one particularly angry gorilla looks as if he's about to rip Kirsten's camera right out of her hands. We take a few quick snapshots and pray they'll work, thank Nicolas, and head back out into the night. Sick of the taxi search and hauling our bodies through the metro, I have wisely brought along my car for the evening. Miraculously, we found parking places directly across the street (the Parisians have already started leaving for summer vacation). It's 3am by the time I drop Kirsten off at the hotel. I tell her to be ready at 6am when I come back to pick her up for for the sunrise shots on the Champ de Mars.To be continued...

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2007-07-29T16:40:00+02:00

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Guidebook Shoot: Day 5

2007-07-26T23:55:00+02:00

I let everyone have Sunday off (including yours truly, who needed to do some market shopping), and on Monday we got off to a soggy start. We were supposed to meet in front of the Eiffel Tower at 6am for sunrise shooting. At 5am I wake up and hear rain on my roof. The model calls about wardrobe issues and I tell her to wait and see if the photographer wanted to risk getting her equipment wet...the word comes back at 5:30am: "Go back to bed, see you at lunch". After a nice lunch at Palais Royal, where we deal with some of the necessary paperwork (model releases, contracts, etc.), we head out in the rain to another shoot with personal stylist/shopping consultant Jacqueline Sablayrolles of La Mode-Le Club. We go to the wrong address (there are two) and our taxi already has left before we realized it, so we had to flag down another while calling the model to warn her of the change. Jacqueline has some dresses from the new collection of Fatima Guerrout (who's to shy to let us put her photo in the guide...isn't she cute though!) that we ooh and ahh over before setting up the shoot.

Fatima watching from the side:

Afterwards we have an unconfirmed shoot at a fetish club called Cris-et-Chuchotements, all the way on the other side of town. I knew they weren't open (that's why they were letting us take pics), but the contact person I had was not answering the phone and no one answered the door, so we had to abort that mission. It's not our day!But we decide to take some photos around the Petit Palais when we see a promising sign:

Kirsten is determined to get the rainbow, even though the wind is blowing the rain right into her lense. (I actually did go and help hold the umbrella after shooting this pic!)

We then head over to Les Ombres for a late dinner shoot. The Eiffel Tower is usually visible through the glass and steel roof, but the rain was once again wreaking havoc. Kirsten manages to get out on the balcony to get some nice shots anyway. I have a Kir Royal and head home to feed my dogs.

And pray the next day goes more smoothly!

Guidebook Shoot: Day 4

2007-07-26T17:58:16+02:00

The crew slept in Saturday morning, then met up at Les Chandelles, one of the best-known echangiste (swinger) clubs in Paris. We have an appointment with the owner Valerie. We enter with our equipment at about 5pm and start setting up, even though, as happens, Valerie is neither there nor does her staff have any clue that we're supposed to be there. But we manage to explain what we're doing and the manager gives us carte blanche to shoot away (she did warn the other clientèle before we went downstairs). After wardrobe changes, the model does a little spin on the dance floor's pole. Lucky for us she's a natural! Then we do a few montage scenes around the club, careful not to get any of the clientèle in the shots. It's a beautiful club, much nicer than most of the places of this genre. Being the afternoon, there's only a handful of people (at the bar, not in the "back"), but they don't seem to mind watching our shoot. I just know all of you are asking where MY photos are...unfortunately I can't publish those here...you'll just have to see the guide when it's finished! Afterwards we head over to the Latin Quarter, where we pick up a friend who happens to be a tango dancer. We're all starving so we grab some crepes, the equivalent of French fast food, and taxi up to the Bistro Latin. It's actually pretty empty, and someone tells us everyone is dancing on the Seine. Paris Plage had just opened that day, so the crowd dancing on the quays at the foot of the Institut du Monde Arabe were bigger than normal. We started to walk, (and Kirsten kept stopping to shoot the sunset), but with everyone in heels, we soon changed to another taxi and made it to the Quai St-Bernard just as the sun was getting low.

Kirsten tried to keep up with our tango'ing couple amidst the swirl, but it wasn't easy!

Afterwards we meet another model and her beau at Le Fumoir for a nightcap. We look for a taxi along the quays, but by the time we reached the metro there were still no taxis free, so we metro'd home. La classe!

Guidebook Shoot: Day 3

2007-07-22T11:35:00+02:00

Day 3 starts early, at 10am. Luckily for our model, it only entails getting a massage in the best spa in town: the Four Seasons George V.

Kirsten (and our PR liaison at the hotel, Jean-Louis) wearing hygienic booties for the shots around the swimming pool.We shoot some food images during lunch at Ginger, on the Rue de La Trémoille, then head out to our first "toy" store shoot at the Dollhouse, back in the Marais.

Kirsten demonstrates how she wants the model to use the leather flogger. It's late afternoon, but there are still two more sessions with yet another model, first at the vintage photography gallery of erotic art, Au Bonheur du Jour, and then afternoon tea photos in the adorable lounge of the Hotel Daniel. Unfortunately we arrived a bit late and my contact had already gone home for the day. The photographer starts setting up anyway while I explain to a slightly bewildered-looking staff that we're just going to snap a few pics and be on our way.

As they say, sometimes it's better to apologize than to ask for permission. ;) We get some lovely shots (and I think the gentlemen guests at the other end of the tearoom were enjoying the view of our model's long legs) and wrapped up by 7pm. We were supposed to shoot another restaurant that evening at 10:30pm (because it isn't dark until then in Paris, and we need the shots to look like they're taken at dinner!) but everyone needs a break, so I let the team go home and get their beauty rest. Next stop? One of the most famous swinger's clubs in Europe....stay tuned!

Guidebook Shoot: Day 2

2007-07-22T11:05:00+02:00

Day 2 started out with three very dehydrated, sleep deprived ladies in sunglasses. Luckily we're all young enough to bounce back by the time the shooting starts at the naughty perfume boutique, Etat Libre d'Orange, in the Marais. We had to improvise a bit to get some good perfume shots without actually spraying the model with the perfume (since we wouldn't have time to hose her down before the next session).

We can't resist a closeup of the model's shoes on the hot pink rug.After lunch we shoot at L'Hotel in the St-Germain-des-Près district, a sultry Jacques Garcia designed boutique hotel. Aarathi arrives to help style the room photos. We have a beautifully exotic room for the shoot (the Marco Polo, I believe), and decide to go ahead and fill the tub so it can look like the model is about to get in. I should mention that all of the hotels we shoot are kindly letting us use the room for an hour or so. But we're not supposed to mess it up, so we're very careful to "leave no traces" at the end of the sessions. Between setting up, arranging and changing the photographic equipment, styling the models and then cleaning up behind ourselves, it soon becomes obvious why so many people are needed on fashion shoots!

Aarathi arranges the model's hair to look "natural". We wrap up at L'Hotel and go for lunch at La Palette, just down the road. The model's boyfriend has arrived in Paris unexpectedly, so she won't be coming to the evening session at Chez Régine's. Luckily, I invited all of my girlfriends to participate in the shoot, which is for the weekly ladies' night, "Au Bonheur des Dames". How do you get your friends to come out and basically "work" for free? Free drinks, free food, free male entertainment....if only all my work was this easy!

The ladies waiting patiently for the show to begin. What isn't easy is getting in, since there's a whole sea of women pressed up against the velvet rope at opening time. After talking our way past the doorman (with the help of the PR woman's email to me, which I thankfully remembered to print out and bring along....this is France, after all) our crew set up on the edge of the dance floor where the show takes place. And what a show!

"Zorro" shows the willing participant where to pull the zipper on his tight black pants...At some point during the shooting, Kirsten lost a piece of her flash equipment, called a diaphragm, so I had to walk around asking the wait staff if they'd accidentally "cleaned up" a large white diaphragm...sometimes this job has its surreal moments. Despite the loss (I promised to bring some wax paper and scotch tape to the next shoot to improvise), it was another successful day of shooting. We got the photographer home earlier on Day 2, just after midnight!Tune in tomorrow to see us shoot our first naughty toy boutique!

Guidebook Shoot: Day 1

2007-07-21T11:00:00+02:00

Our photographer Kirsten arrives from Toronto at 9am, and immediately has to change hotels because the "Double Deluxe" at the first one was too small to unpack all of her equipment. The team meets for lunch at Lapérouse, one of the restaurants in the guide, where Kirsten meets the production assistant Aarathi and one of the models, Nicole. After a light lunch, they get rolling with a few photos in Laperouse's famous "salons privées". The staff are brilliantly helpful. A good start!

Kisten (spotting a good angle to photograph), Nicole, Aarathi, and Joann at Lapérouse. Next stop is the Murano Urban Resort, where we meet another model, Marcus, for photos in the bar and the Honeymoon suite. In the early afternoon the bar is almost empty, so we get full run of the place. The Honeymoon suite is a total trip (although it did take five of us to figure out how to get all of the random gadgets and colored lights to work), so it was no problem getting the models to have a little fun posing in the big round bed.

It's sporty work being a naughty photographer! Kirsten pretends she needs to lie down to take these photos. We order her a pot of coffee.

Kirsten gets to go home for a few hours' rest before the third and final session of Day 1, the Black Calavados (aka BC) bar and restaurant. Being almost completely black, it was quite a challenge to get the right shots. Thankfully the other restaurant guests were having such a rowdy time themselves that we didn't bother anyone with our entourage.

We head downstairs to the bar, and since it's still empty early in the evening we start taking more photos with our young models. But it does fill quickly, being such a tiny bar, so the manager eventually cuts us off, and we celebrate the end of a successful first day with a few bottles of Champagne. Kirsten is now jetlagged and buzzed, but she can't resist continuing to shoot on the sly.

We manage to get the mild-mannered party animal to bed by 2am. Come back tomorrow for Day 2!

Naughty Paris photo shoots start today!!

2007-07-18T20:01:15+02:00

Today the photographer for the Naughty Paris Guide arrives from Toronto, and we will start an insanely hectic shooting schedule, photographing over 23 locations over the next ten days!! Coordinating the models, photographer, photographer's entourage, stylist, and venues in the guide (hotels, restaurants, bars, clubs, boutiques, etc) has taken up 100% of my time the past week, so I expect everything will run smoothly. Ha! This is Paris, after all.I will be taking a few pics on my crappy camera to document the shooting, and will give you all an update of how things are going. For better or worse, summer has finally arrived in Paris, so we expect beautiful light, but muggy conditions. Any volunteers to come and fan the models with a palm frond? ;) -Heather

Sexy Thursdays in Paris!

2007-07-03T16:25:00+02:00

This Thursday (5th) is the second Scandalous Ball at Sens (23 rue Ponthieu, 8th) from midnight until dawn. It's organized by the celebrated New York nightlife queen Susanne Bartsch, accompanied by her friends Kenny Kenny, World Famous Bob, Johanna Constantine and Lady Fag.

If you're looking for a good warm-up party, there's always Au Bonheur des Dames at Régine's Club, every Thursday from 9:30pm (women only for a super girly show and entertainement and cocktails, 100% free), and your men can join you there from 11:30pm.

Naughty Paris Salon

2007-04-01T15:59:26+02:00

Want to know more about the Naughty Paris Guide? Come meet the Editrix-in-Chief herself at the Context Salon (part of the "Out of Context" series), Wednesday April 4 at 6:30pm, where she'll be speaking about the book, the research, and all of the naughty Parisian addresses from girly sex toy shops to libertine clubs and where to buy naughty art. It's a casual event, hosted by an American expat in her private Montmartre house, with drinks and snacks provided following the talk. The cost is €35/person. To sign up contact Context Paris.

Tel Aviv is cheaper for travelers than London, Paris and New York

2007-03-10T07:05:00+01:00

Tel Aviv is offering a better value for money for travelers than the most of the countries of the eurozone, according to Economist Intelligence Unit's latest Worldwide Cost of Living survey.

Western Europe accounts for the overwhelming majority of the world's most expensive cities, as London (4th), Copenhagen (3rd) and Paris (2nd) have all overtaken Tokyo in the last 12 months to join Oslo as the world's most expensive destinations. Moscow (26th) is now more expensive than New York (28th), the most expensive destination outside Europe and Asia. Tel Aviv, Israel, is rank 47 in the EIU cost of living ranking table.

“Those travelling on a budget would do well to avoid Europe,” said Jon Copestake, the survey's editor. “The strength of European currencies plays a large part, but prices in Europe are also rising whereas those in Japan have been almost static."

Worldwide Cost of Living, the bi-annual Economist Intelligence Unit survey, compares prices and products in over 130 cities around the world. Only five cities in the Middle East and Africa saw the cost of living increase compared to destinations around them. Apart from Tel Aviv most of these were in Africa. Tehran, in Iran, presents the best value for money in the world.

Sponsored Links – Hotels in Tel Aviv | Israel Travel Tips | Eilat Nova Hotel | Fine Art in Israel

Fetish Photography Exhibition

2007-01-06T22:05:40+01:00

Don't miss the fabulous Christophe Mourthé exposition of fetish photography at the Musée de l'Erotisme (72 blvd de Clichy, 18th), featuring the pin-up burlesque star Dita Von Teese in Paris' Père Lachaise cemetery.

Erotic Art Books at Artcurial

2007-01-05T21:52:29+01:00

The erotic art photography publisher "Chez Higgins Editions" will have an exposition-sale of their limited-edition portfolio collection at Artcurial (7 Rond Point des Champs-Elysées, 8th) from February 1-March 1.

The Biggest Fetish Party of the Year id Coming!

2006-11-19T23:22:51+01:00

It's time for the 7th annual Nuit Démonia, not just one night, but FOUR nights of events in Paris crowned by the one of the biggest fetish parties in Europe. No matter if you've never been to a fetish party in your life, get out that sexy latex Halloween costume and check out the action!

Rodin's Dirty Drawings

2006-11-19T23:05:35+01:00

Most fans of the famous French sculptor Auguste Rodin also know that he created an impressive collection of erotic drawings. However these are usually not on display. Until now. The Musée Rodin ( 79 rue de Varenne, 7th, M° Varenne) is hosting an exhibit from November 22 through March 18 called:

Rodin, les Figures d’ErosDessins et aquarelles érotiques. 1890-1917

There will be 145 drawings and watercolors by Rodin on display. And because the French love to intellectualize everything, the academic question to ponder while you're getting turned on is: when does a nude figure drawing become an erotic drawing? (feel free to send in your answers here!)

Poker, cigars and chocolate -- just another Ladies-Only Soirée!

2006-11-15T13:35:43+01:00

The stylish Left Bank restaurant-bar-lounge Alcazar (62 rue Mazarine, 6th, M° Odéon) is hosting the second Demoiselles de l'Alcazar soirée on Tuesday November 21 from 8pm, with poker lessons, cigar and chocolate dégustation (not together, I hope!), gaming tables, back massages, individual coaching sessions, and live DJ, all for €40 (includes meal and a drink). Get your smoking out of the closet, ladies, and grab your girlfriends for a night on the town! Reserve at 0153 10 19 99.

The Queen of Burlesque meets the Queen of Elegant Lingerie

2006-11-10T10:35:00+01:00

Dita von Teese's burlesque show at the Crazy Horse cabaret was a huge success. She performed the "taking a bath" show immortalized by one of the earliest Crazy Horse retro stars, Lili St-Cyr. It certainly answered the persistent question of visitors in France: "Why doesn't the hand-held shower head attach to the wall?"Thanks to Gentry Lane of Gentry de Paris lingerie for sending me this fabu photo of her (and her lucky lawyer, Sébastien Bono) with Dita on the final evening of the show.

The Marquis de Sade Goes to Prison at 24

2006-10-29T12:19:28+01:00

On this day in 1763, the 24-year-old Marquis de Sade was incarcerated for the first time in the tower at Château de Vincennes (by royal decree) for his wild debauchery Although it was also the year of his marriage (supposedly it was his mother-in-law who had him arrested the first time), he was known for his swinging lifestyle with Parisian actresses and courtesans. Prison time didn't seem to be much of a deterrent for the infamous writer (for whom the word "sadism" is attributed). He would return there often, spending almost 30 years of his life behind bars.

Chippendales coming to Paris!

2006-10-22T22:55:00+02:00

Hold onto your corsets, ladies, the famous Chippendale male dancers are coming to town November 14th!

The show starts at 8pm at the Bataclan (50 bd Voltaire, 11th), tickets €60-75, available at FNAC and other ticket agents.

Lolita Tuesday Report

2006-08-17T00:35:00+02:00

The Mardi Lolita sounded like a fun things to do on a rainy Tuesday, so I called some girly friends to go check it out. "What time should we meet?" emails Gentry. "It starts at 7pm," I reply. "Won't we be total dorks showing up on time? It's Tuesday in August,no one will be there." "Well then you can come at 8. I'll be there getting my manicure at 7:30," I reply. Brenna had yoga until 8pm, but I told her we'd still be there watching the Desperate Housewives episodes on the big screen.I didn't actually make it until 8pm (it's in one of those transportation black holes...I had to take three metros). Gentry was on the upper deck drinking her free Cosmopolitan. "Only the Cosmos are free," she reported. Good thing I like cranberry juice. "And the 'boudoir' sucks." She had arrived at 7:20pm and immediately signed us up for the massages and tarot reader. We were, like, 50th in line. "There's no manicurist tonight, and the make-up person only has eye shadow." We finished our drinks on the deck and when it started raining again we headed below deck to the 'Boudoir'. It was pretty sad, but what can you expect for free? I brought money for extra drinks, but never ended up buying any. It wasn't that crowded, but there's limited seating options, and most of them are taken up by the friends of the masseuses, make-up artists, tarot reader, etc. We camped out next to the sex toy table, and since we couldn't see the TV screen while we waited for our appointments, we played with the toys. Apparently they were for sale, but the girl manning the table ignored us when she wasn't flicking her cigarette in our direction. "Wow, I'd really love to know how these things work," I say loudly. "I'd really love to buy one!" added Gentry. Still no attention. At one point a magician came over, obviously paid to entertain us, and started entertaining the sex toy girl and her friends. We began scheming our plot to sell the sex toys ourselves to anyone who looked interested (that might get her attention), when Brenna arrived. "Any toy you want, five euros!"We found some seats closer to the TV (they'd never seen Desperate Housewives, I was trying to fill in the gaps). Gentry was too distracted checking our progress on the list every ten seconds. "There are 25 people ahead of us and only an hour left. They leave at 10pm," she says. And, right on schedule, at 10pm they all packed up and left (not even a "desolée, on ferme!"). The show we were half-watching cut off mid-episode. The gauzy table cloths and three fashion magazines constituting our boudoir were taken away. Total bummer.Not that we didn't have fun. How can you not have fun when out with the girls? So, my advice: go with friends. Get there at 6:45pm. ;)

Under the Pink: A special report by Lady Carolyn

2006-06-20T10:32:13+02:00

While Portuguese football fans were parading up and down the Champs-Élysées last week in celebration of their country’s World Cup win against Angola, Heather, Carolyn and a number of naughty ladies were congregated in the comfortably air conditioned confines of Pink Paradise, not far from the famed boulevard.Normally a gentlemen’s club, Pink Paradise opens its doors every now and then to those gals who’ve always wanted to strap on a pair of stilettos and learn how to twirl seductively around a pole. They call it Girls & the City. This evening, two of the establishment’s sexy stripteaseuses were on call to provide crash courses on stage to the most enthusiastic of volunteers – all of whom quickly learned that pole dancing ain’t as easy as it looks! (Luckily, they didn’t try to teach participants the ol’ climb-up-the-pole-and-then-coquettishly-somersault-down-it move…we surmise that les professionelles have glue slathered on their legs to accomplish that one!) While the announcer was a little, as the French would say, chiant (we think he would have probably preferred to be in a brasserie with the rest of the soccer fans), the crowd was supportive, albeit a little tranquille – perhaps they were suffering from a bit of heat stroke…il fait chaud à Paris !! And, though the dancers were inviting, we weren’t really in agreement with the fact that once the volunteers learned a few steps, the audience was called upon to judge their skills…a little bit too much pressure, we thought, for good girls that are trying to learn a few naughty moves!But even the shyest nouvelles danseuses took all of this in stride, and who could remain timid for too long once the brigade of finely chiseled male dancers -- Les Glamour Boys -- took to the stage? There’s nothing like a seaman with Velcro tear-off pants and a finely structured derrière to make a girl smile. HELLOOOOOO, SAILOR!!! And, just like the Frenchmen on the streets of Paris, male strippers here in France are a lot more, er…forward with the ladies they pull up on stage. Guys, if you were wondering why your girlfriends were so affectionate when they got home, we could tell you why. (But we won’t!!!)After the skin-filled spectacle concluded, Heather and I had the opportunity of speaking with our favorite dancer, Andy, a.k.a. Tarzan. (Hey, we thought he had beautiful…uh…eyes.) Having spent three months as a professional dancer in Los Angeles, our dazzling homme sauvage shared his observations on the differences between the stripper scenes here in France and on the other side of the Big Pond. Les americaines, it seems, are a little freer with their wallets: they will watch the show and then pony up for a more intimate lap dance. Les françaises, he concluded, are a little more conservative about spending the extra cash.But perhaps it’s not a matter of French girls being cheap. Les stripteases à la americaine (and it’s this that Pink Paradise is apparently striving to achieve) are, well, an American phenomenon. It’s possible that French girls just haven’t gotten a hang of the protocol.Not that this was helped by the club’s minimal advertising for the event. The evening, which runs 35 euros per person, includes an open bar, free manicures and hair styling (but you got to get there good and early), and the show – not a bad deal considering what a normal Parisian night on the town costs. We hope that in the future, the club will make more of an effort in publicizing their ladies’ nights. What better way is there for birthday girls and bachlorettes to celebrate than drooling over some fine French flesh?Besides, we want those boys to prosper. As Tarzan would agree, it’s a jungle out there, and one’s gotta eat to keep up a bod like that.

Meet the Pleasure Coach

2006-06-06T23:25:00+02:00

Every Good Girl (and the Men Who Worship Them) should know about Victoria Vesta of Divine Feminine Touch. Bookmark this link! After all, you never know when you may be in need of a bit of sexual awakening, a kick-start to a libido that's been on vacation too long, or just someone to talk to about all of those crazy fantasies that would make your mother faint. So who do you call? A pleasure coach, of course!Victoria came to Paris from New York, where she had a high-stress job in television. In Paris she discovered that je ne sais quoi that Carolyn and I have been telling all you gals about, that erotic energy that permeates the culture in a way that's sorely missing from North American culture. It's not always about sex, but it is about feeling sexy and in touch with your inner femme fatale. Of course, just being in Paris doesn't guarantee that all this erotic mojo will seep into your body through osmosis. Sometimes it helps to have a gentle push in the right direction, a sort of orientation to the world of Naughty Paris. So she decided to move here permanently and devote her life to helping others discover their sexual bliss.Victoria offers women,men and couples pleasure coaching, sensual massage (including lessons), and even gift certificates for that special someone in your life.

I will be your guide in the promotion of your erotic and sensual pleasure - using energies often associated with The Divine Feminine: love, nurturing, healing, wisdom, and guidance.

I had coffee with Victoria yesterday and got to see her gorgeous workspace (inspired by the emperor's bedroom in the film Gladiator). We ended up chatting for hours, and I can say I highly recommend a session with her for anyone who is looking for a safe and healthy place to explore their sexual epanouissement.

TRIK at Paris-Paris

2006-05-31T17:15:00+02:00

Last night I went to a concert at Paris-Paris to see a Franco-American group called TRIK (opening for JAD WIO). I invited along a few friends. "Do we have to wear fetish gear?" asked one, wary of participating in my Naughty Paris "research" excursions. "Only if you want to; personally I think it's a bit too chilly." I was just joking (not about the chilly part though; firkin' freezing out there!), but once we arrived on the scene I could see that anyone wearing fetish gear would fit right in.We were among the first to arrive, but by the time we got our drinks and secured one of the few seating areas, it was already packed. We had almost an hour to hang out before the concert started, so we had time to check out the crowd's...er...eclectic style.

Some of the more eye-catching outfits in the crowd.

The house cocktail, with fresh strawberries, mango and vodka.TRIK is made up of Nancy, a veloptuous sex pot of an American (the kind you rarely find in America these days), and two French dudes, Mathieu and Cédric. Rumor has it they met during one of those speed dating sessions. Their style of music is self-described as "ElectroGlamBooty". Why not? You can listen to excerpts on their website, or catch them on July 12 at Le Pulp, but don't bother looking for their CD in stores, because they only ever recorded enough CDs to sell to their friends.

Last night they were in fine form, entertaining the crowd with devil horns, a glow ring, a few naughty flashes of skin, and some extremely raunchy franglais that must have had her mother blushing. "How did I get so vulgar?" asks Nancy. "Why don't we ask my mom, she's right over there." And indeed, there was a motherly looking woman standing beside me.

Who knew the flute (far left) could rock?

Nanct gets up close and personal.After TRIK was the headlining band, JAD WIO, a French band who have a sort of goth-punk thing going. I hadn't done any pre-concert research (I know, I know; take away my press pass), so I wasn't exactly prepared for the singer Denis Bortek to come out wearing a mask and a corset.

Only two of the five members of the band performed last night (Fred the bassist, below).

Original, to say the least...I can't look either!

Le Shop Closed for Works

2006-03-03T00:35:00+01:00

The popular streetwear concept store Le Shop (Rue Argout, 2nd) is closed for "travaux". According to the sign, it will reopen as a co-branded "IKKS - Le Shop" store. Judging from a quick peek in the doorway, don't hold your breath. In the meantime, pick up clubbing flyers at Kiliwatch on Rue Tiquetonne, around the corner.

The Greatest French Mistress of All Time

2006-03-01T22:40:00+01:00

The French seem to have more of an affinity for Les Maitresses, or mistresses, than their Anglophone counterparts. Who knows if they actually "cheat" more than Americans or Brits, but they certainly love talking about it. Novels, movies, television shows -- it's all about his "cinq à sept" (more on the vocabulary in a future post) and her "amant". Ah, oui! Les femmes too! The battle of the sexes is fought on different grounds here in France, home of égalité. Not that every French person will openly say they have (or are) a mistress, but it's seen more as if it's a fact of life than a moral issue. After all, mistresses are nothing new. One of the best-known in French history is Madame de Montespan, mistress of the one and only Sun King, Louis XIV. And lucky for us, she had enough free time to write, in her own words, a memoir on what it was like living the charmed life in the Palais de Versailles at the height of the French monarchy. In the prologue by the English translator:

The cynical Court lady, whose beauty bewitched a great King, and whose ruthless sarcasm made Duchesses quail, is here drawn for us in vivid fashion by her own hand, and while concerned with depicting other figures she really portrays her own. Certainly, in these Memoirs she is generally content to keep herself in the background, while giving us a faithful picture of the brilliant Court at which she was for long the most lustrous ornament.It is only by stray touches, a casual remark, a chance phrase, that we, as it were, gauge her temperament in all its wiliness, its egoism, its love of supremacy, and its shallow worldly wisdom. Yet it could have been no ordinary woman that held the handsome Louis so long her captive. The fair Marquise was more than a mere leader of wit and fashion. If she set the mode in the shape of a petticoat, or devised the sumptuous splendours of a garden fete, her talent was not merely devoted to things frivolous and trivial. She had the proverbial 'esprit des Mortemart'. Armed with beauty and sarcasm, she won a leading place for herself at Court, and held it in the teeth of all detractors.

Go ahead, I dare you to try and not read it. You might get some naughty ideas in your head, heaven forbid!

L'Eclaireur Boutique Moves

2006-03-01T00:25:00+01:00

The cutting edge fashion boutique Eclaireur closed its location under the arcades of the Palais Royal and moved to 8 Rue Boissy d'Anglas (8th, near Place de la Madeleine). You can also visit their "industrial loft" style stores in the Marais (3 Rue des Rosiers and 12 Rue Mahler) for the latest must-have fashions (like the latest Prada, Dries Van Noten, Ann Demeulemeester, or that cool Chloé bag with the padlock).

Fetish Anniversary Party

2006-02-28T23:15:00+01:00

Looking for something fun to do this Friday? Want to "peek" in on a fetish party without worrying too much about dress code? Then head over to La Cave de Justine Friday (March 3) for the one year anniversary party of the "Fetish in Paris" soirées on March 3. To celebrate in typical French style, they're having more of an "open house" atmosphere than you'd find at their regular soirées, with discussion groups, anniversary cake, and a bit of networking. Hey, don't ask me, it's what the invitation says:

Ce ne sera pas une soirée comme les soirées FetishInParis mais plus l'occasion de discuter, faire connaissance ... et manger le gateau d'anniversaire! Ilo et Hugo aimeraient que cette soirée soit l'occasion de faire plus ample connaissance entre les membres du site!

So there's no strict dress code (but you should at least be in all black, and do wear your leather, latex or vinyl if you have it), and the entrance is free. Drinks will be €5 (soft drinks) to €15 (Champagne). The details:La Cave de Justine3 rue Villedo, 1stMétro: Pyramides or Palais-RoyalTel: 01 42 96 90 74 or 06 64 45 17 17

Naughty Dogs

2006-02-25T23:10:00+01:00

Okay, I admit the weather has been horrible: grey, cold, wet, windy, and -- sometimes -- snowy. Not the best conditions for dog walkies. They don't want to go, I don't want to go. There's the whole ritual of me bundling up, getting the mutts bundled up in their rain coats if necessary, finding a plastic bag for the inevitable ramassage ("I love my quartier, I pick up after my dogs"), the keys, the phone if I'm expecting a call, some change if I want to stop by the bakery...

When it's nice out or I'm feeling particularly energetic, we head up to the Butte-aux-Cailles, around the boules courts of the Boulevard Auguste Blanqui, and maybe even a stroll past our friendly neighborhood police station (it's been a year...I'm still waiting for one of them to say "hi"; they're not very friendly, in fact). Sometimes we stop at the supermarket, where they get tied to the railing by the carts while I'm shopping (sounds cruel, but they get pet by everyone who passes by). I take them into the bakery even though there's a "no dogs" sign (they'd freeze to death or get stolen if I left them outside), and they get to eat up all of the bread crumbs. The boulangère thinks they're cute. She didn't see that one time Lena managed to wiggle into a bottom cabinet, swallowing a few croissants whole before I yanked her out.Lena's the smaller one, but she's a handful. And now that it's crappy outside and the walkies consist of a quick spin around the block, she's definitely showing signs of stir craziness. For the first time since she was a puppy (six years ago), she has been stealing my underwear out of the laundry bag. BAck when she was a pup and we had a garden, I'd find the undies in the grass or under the bushes, covered in dirt and dog saliva, but otherwise unadulterated. But now she brings them into her basket and shreds them to bits. I'm sure Freud would have a field day here, but whatever. I've begun hanging the laundry bag up on the draying rack in the bathroom. So now that her "toys" are gone, she's just sitting here staring at me and giving off a little doggie huff every few minutes. If it was sunny out I could let her lie in the sunbeam on the bed (which usually keeps them quiet for hours), but there's no sun. Not even a little. She's not interesed in her bone. She's not even interested in terrorizing her brother, Pedro (who's doing his own passive-aggressive doggie routine of not eating his kibble for three days in a row). So how to get the dogs out of their winter funk? When I'm in a funk a trip to the pastry shop is always nice, so I think we're going to have to take a trip to the dog bakery this weekend (scroll down to Doggie Services).

Multimedia Fashion Blog

2006-02-25T00:40:00+01:00

The windows at Printemps have an excellent Pirates of the Caribbean theme (for the upcoming sequel film, "Dead Man's Chest"), with a series of very fashionable damsels in distress on the high seas. There's even a dramatic soundtrack to accompany the scenes:

Looking for the Grail?

2006-02-24T01:25:00+01:00

These won't help you find it, unless of course you swallowed Dan Brown's book whole. The film is coming out in May, so I expect a few more lost souls will be trying to follow these little round disks across town. They actually do follow the original Paris Meridien, used in France back before GMT was established. But these little bronze plaques are actually part of the largest "work of art" in Paris, created by an artist in 1995 to honor the French astronomer Arago, who mapped out the line at the Paris Observatory in the 17th century. The little disks can be found from Montmartre to the Parc Montsouris.

This one is at the Palais Royal: in the background is the Hotel du Louvre, and even further back on the left a peek of the Louvre Museum.

Get Your Sexy Horoscope!

2006-02-23T21:48:39+01:00

Check out the Clinique Cosmique at fashionista boutique Colette (213 Rue St-Honoré, 1st), where kitsch "sextrologers" Stella Starsky and Quinn Cox will read your horoscope on March 1-4 from 4-6pm at the Water Bar (downstairs) — gratuit — in English or fluent Franglais. The duo are authors of the book Sextrology: The Astrology of Sex and the Sexes. Be sure you know what time you were born!

Students on Strike

2006-02-23T16:30:00+01:00

The noise started at about noon, softly at first, so that I had to turn off the radio to really hear what it was: a crowd. A big one, by the sound of it, but that's always a bit hard to guess because I'm way up in the sky, overlooking a huge square, so there's plenty of opportunity for sound to bounce around. I thought maybe it was a Mardi Gras carnival, but that's not happening in Paris until this weekend, and it's not scheduled to pass by my place, so...I crane my neck a bit to see, but so far traffic is running normally and the square is empty.Then I hear the familiar sounds of people chanting into a bullhorn, the crowd chanting back. "Oh swell, a manif." Manifestations, or demonstrations, happen all of the time in Paris. I read recently that there are over 500 per year (they're always registered in advance to organize the police escort through traffic). Since I live on a busy boulevard, they come through here a lot. Other areas that attract a lot of manifs are République and Bastille. Anyone who works from home (or worse, is home sick in bed trying to sleep), knows that these noisy demonstrations, which can go on for hours as they file past or gather in the square, are a major annoyance. The bullhorns, the foghorns, the whistles, the chanting, the music blaring over scratchy speakers hauled in the back of a beat-up van...there's not much that can drown out this sound. I mean, I could turn up my stereo really loud, but that would just piss off the neighbors, and I can't really get any work done that way anyway. So I'm annoyed.By 1pm the noise was much louder, so I peeked out the window again just as they filed past my apartment building. They were only in one lane of traffic (so that cars could still use the other side), which meant they'd be stretched out for kilometers. I tried to read their banners (understanding what they're chanting is impossible, even for the French), but it seems to be a requirement in French manifs that the banners are hastily-made on droopy sheets with spray paint cans. Of course I couldn't read what it said.

At 2pm I was getting hungry and Pedro and Lena's bladders were ripe, so I bundled up to go outside. There were actually flurries this morning when I first went out, but the foot of snow I was hoping for didn't pan out. Bummer. It might have covered up some of the trash the protesters left behind. That's another thing I hate about demonstrations: they pollute. There are flyers, spent firecracker shells, stickers pasted everywhere, and lots of food garbage. Once there was even a merguez-frites cart (like a French version of a hotdog stand) set up outside my building to feed the hungry protesters. The marchers had made their way around the Place d'Italie to the Avenue de l'Hopital, but my street was still lined with CRS (riot police) for three blocks. They were keeping cars from turning down the side streets leading to Boulevard de l'Hôpital. Great use of tax money. Hmph!I asked one of them what was up. "Un manifestation," he said, eyeing my little poop machines -- I ramasse, thank you very much! There's no word in French for "Duh!" so I asked what it was for. "Contre le CPE, contrat première embauche." Of course. They were students (and other younguns, I assume) protesting the new hiring laws for the "first job" (première embauche). In a nutshell, the standard French contract for a permenent job includes a three-month trial period. The employee can be fired at any time during this period. After the three months are up (assuming the company decides to give you the contract), employees can breathe a sigh of relief: at this point they can't be fired or laid off without a huge compensation package (unless they do something illegal). A lot of people, moi included, thinks this is why customer service sucks. If you're not worried about getting fired, why work harder? (on the flip side, I don't think we Americans have a better work ethic; I just think we're scared sh*tless of getting fired so we kiss customer butt). But obviously this makes employers wary of hiring people, especially "first-jobbers" who have no track record. So the government, trying to make a compromise and encourage companies to take more risks, introduced this "CPE", a contract where the trial period is extended to two years. Of course the French students are unhappy. That means they have to kiss butt a lot longer, and even then they could be fired. I try and explain to some friends that there are no "trial periods" in the US. That basically you can fired anytime, no matter how long you've been at a company. Many French people actually know this, and obviously it's one of the things they don't admire about the United States. They may like our movies and music, but they'd rather pass on the job insecurity and lack of universal healthcare. Me, I'm a bit of a mutt in my opinions. I think the French are too cozy (and being a freelancer rather than an employee I don't get to enjoy any of that coziness), but I also think it's absurd how terrified average Americans are of losing their jobs. I think something in between the two would be good, so a two-year trial for the first job isn't a bad thing, and will hopefully decrease the high rate of unemployment amongst the French youth.

Taking Advantage of the Centre Pompidou

2006-02-23T12:05:00+01:00

Sometimes a lack of proper management can work in your favor. Sometimes not. Take the Centre Pompidou, for example. I was showing some friends around town when the winter drizzle turned into a downpour, so we ducked inside the Pompidou for shelter. There's usually a line at the door (for security check; the ticket counter for the museum exhibits is inside), so we pretended we were going to the Georges restaurant on the top floor and got in the guarded red elevator just to the left of the main entrance. Quick and easy elevator to the top (well, you do have to switch on the first floor, no biggie) and I have a peek, as I usually do, to see if the glass doors for the fire escape have been left undone again. Of course they were. Why would anyone go out there in the rain? Duh, to get better photos!

On our way out we decide to freshen up in the restrooms, and I try the water fountain in the ladies room, as I usually do. And it's still broken. As far as I can tell, it's never worked. I'll bet there isn't even a water hose attached. It's probably some kind of contemporary art installation. After all, how often do you see drinking fountains indoors in France? Never! Still, I'm not going to give up hope that some day I can have a little sip for my parched throat. In the meantime I'll have to settle for drinking the rainwater I've wrung out of my beret.

This is art.

Happy Birthday Claire!

2006-02-22T21:50:00+01:00

With Claire and Mika (center) at the SOMO Bar (Rue Montmartre, 2nd) to celebrate another February birthday. Doesn't look a day over 29, does she?! SOMO is owned by the same folks as the Lizard Lounge over in the Marais (Rue du Bourg-Tibourg), so there's a similar crowd of 25-35ish "trying to look casually snazzy" Parisians and Anglophones. Up in the oddly tiled tower is a DJ we can barely see, but the music is good so who cares? Being a holiday in Paris, most of the town is off skiing, so we could actually find seats at the bar and watch the girls make eyes at the cute Danish bartender (who was pounced on immediately by Claire's tall, blonde Danish friend...making the most of an unfair advantage!)

Naughty Birthday

2006-02-22T01:10:37+01:00

Lady Carolyn celebrated her 25th birthday (again) last week. Practice makes perfect, I always say! A pile of us gathered at a new bar/resto in the 19th near Belleville called Le Ventre de l'Architecte (Rue Burnouf) about two hours before the lady in question decided to make her grand entrance. Note to the girls: getting one's hair done is always an excellent excuse for being late -- especially since it gives everyone the chance to immediately compliment your new 'do.

One of the ladies gave her this sexy little bit o'lingerie, which Carolyn's gallant homme is expertly fastening on for her in the photo. Note to the guys: Doing this helps you get a good look right away so you won't have to fumble around in the dark later!PS: None of the other gifts could be shown on this blog -- her dad might be reading!

At the Hôtel de Ville

2006-02-21T23:50:13+01:00

There was a good drizzle falling, but it didn't stop these kids from enjoying the little toboggan slide set up next to the ice-skating rink.

InterContinental becomes Hotel Westin

2006-02-18T12:25:00+01:00

I was walking down the Rue Castiglione this week and noticed the big billboards covering the building at the corner of Rue de Rivoli. Up until January, this was the Paris InterContinental. Now it's called The Westin, although aside from a few signage changes, for the moment it still looks very much the same as it did when I stopped by in September. But I hear big renovations are planned for the massive 438-room conference hotel, so stay tuned. I think the change is good. I never really liked this hotel despite its beautiful ballrooms and historic architecture. All conference hotels have a conference hotel atmosphere, no matter how pretty they look. The other weird thing was that it always confused the tourists because there were actually two InterContinental hotels, the remaining one, known as the InterContinental Paris Le Grand Hotel, located nearby across from the Opéra Garnier. This one was completely renovated two years ago, and while very impressive, is also a conference hotel (although it's nice to have a drink in their intimate bar just past the winter garden atrium). I think it's funny that their website doesn't mention what happened to the other hotel, but rather has an oddly prominent quote in the center of the home page that says:"There is only one Paris. There is only one InterContinental."No mention of who this quote is from...maybe it's the endless refrain chanted into the phone by the receptionist feiliding calls from confused travelers looking for the "one near the Tuileries".

The Cutest Backpack!

2006-02-18T12:09:42+01:00

Omigod this is the cutest little penguin backpack! Couldn't help myself...

The Problem with Latex

2006-02-18T11:50:00+01:00

The biggest fetish party in Paris, Nuit Dèmonia, takes place every December. Of course I had to go. Not just for research, but for the wardrobe. Because while “echangiste” sex clubs may be all about increasing your odds of getting lucky -- very lucky, even! -- fetish clubs are all about le look. I recruited a brave lady friend of mine (we’ll call her Lila) who was intrigued with the evening’s strict dress code: leather, latex, vinyl or uniform. Lila is the kind of Parisienne who has the perfect outfit for every event. But this was new for her. “What will I wear?” she asked in wonderment. I asked myself the same thing; remembering sadly that I had recently given away a leather miniskirt from my college days because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn it.

But never fear. This is Paris, after all! And of course I knew exactly where to “get kitted out”, as the Brits would say. There are two excellent boutiques on Rue Quincampoix (near the Pompidou Centre) selling fetish wear, corsets, uniforms, stilettos, and even accessories like whips, chains, and hand-cuffs. The little police uniforms were cute, but we already had our corsets, so we were looking for skirts. I found a cute little black vinyl skirt, not skin tight but shaped a bit like a cheerleader’s skirt. But I felt a little, well, naked. A pair of long black gloves would complete the outfit. But they had to be shiny (to match the skirt), and they had to fit my skinny little arms. “We don’t sell latex,” said the shopkeeper at the largest fetish boutique on the street. She explained that it was too fragile and the outfits always got damaged and couldn’t be sold. Meanwhile, Lila is an Amazon, too tall for most Parisian clothes. Not finding anything she likes, we both cross the Boulevard Sébastopol to the goth boutiques of Les Halles. Goth boutiques are not the most elegant places in the world (nor are they trying to be), but it’s a great place to find black vinyl skirts in every shape. Lila finds her bliss in a long, flowing skirt (straight out of Cruella DeVille’s closet). I try on the elbow-length vinyl gloves. I frown at the way they’re baggu around myupper arms. “You going to the Nuit Dèmonia tonight?” the heavily-pierced shopkeeper asks. I nod. We’re obviously not the only ones who waited until the last minute. I pass on the vinyl gloves, and resign myself to a trip to the Dèmonia boutique on the other side of town, where I knew I’d find latex gloves. But on the way to the métro, the window displays along the Rue St-Denis caught my eye. If you know this street, you know that it’s best to ignore the tacky sex shop and sex show store fronts. But of course there they were: latex gloves, for sale in one of the “toys and videos” shops. These are not places for Good Girls. But in the interest of time, Lila and I give it a go. It’s hard to know how to act in a boutique surrounded by absurdly-sized silicone body parts and even the more absurd covers gracing the XXX-videos on the shelves. We focus on the gloves. One pair are made of rubber, so thick that I could have used them to clean up toxic waste. Impossible to bend my fingers, though, so we move on to another pair that are just too long. Finally, we find a pair that I think might work. Keep in mind it’s December, I’m wearing eight layers of clothing that I need to mostly take off to get the gloves up to my elbows. The owner is smoking heavily as he talks to us, and maybe we rush a bit because we’re sure we’re going to pass out. He includes the silicone-spray in the bag with my purchase and we burst out of the shop into the fresh(ish) Parisian air. Silicone spray is one of the necessary accessories when buying latex, because it’s what gives the latex its shine. Otherwise you’ll look like you’re wearing deflated balloons. It’s only when I get home I realize the bottle is mostly empty. Maybe it leaked, but maybe it came that way. No way I’m going back, though. Getting ready for the evening, I apply a ton of talc powder so that I can get my gloves on, smooth the air bubbles out of the fingers. This takes almost twenty minutes. I apply the silicone and buff them up to a nice shine. In the métro on the way to meet Lila, I wonder if anyone notices the shiny black hand clutching the steel bar. Otherwise I’m completely covered by my winter layers, my stilettos in my backpack.

The gloves look awesome, like a second skin. I feel like Aeon Flux. Fetish nights are, after all, really just Halloween for adults. Who doesn’t love to dress up all sexy? But then I start to notice a funny feeling. Or rather, a lack thereof. By the time I reach Lila’s house, I have to rip the gloves off, terrified that the loss of circulation will make my fingers fall off. We have a glass of wine, pose for some funny photos (that will never see the light of day if we have any say in it), and head off to La Loco. The flyers advertise a “changing room” so that no one has to arrive in their outfits. But it’s really just one huge room with a coat-check service, and everyone is in different corners assembling their outfits. The first two people Lila and I spot are a fat man and a dwarf. But more on the actual Nuit Dèmonia in another post. We peel off the layers hiding our tiny outfits, slide into our stilettos, and – rather too quickly – I attempt to put my gloves back on. But since they’ve been silicone’d, they’re now “fragile” (the words of the first boutique owner echoing in my head). I put in one hand, give a gentle pull, et voila. I now have a fingerless glove. Lila glances over in my direction as I curse ever-so-inelegantly. “No one will notice,” she assures me. I glance out into the darkened club, have another look at the growing expanse of exposed skin in the dressing room, and suddenly don’t feel so naked in my skirt and corset. I rip off the gloves and toss them into the backpack with my sneakers. My latex love affair got off to rocky start. But I’m not ready to give up just yet. I saw these amazing latex thigh highs at the Salon de la Lingerie. To be continued…

Ullmann Cabaret at Paris-Paris

2006-02-13T22:45:00+01:00

Nicolas Ullmann (in the police uniform) welcomes the crowd of Paris-Paris to the latest installment of the Ullmann Cabaret Soirées, with the Danish rock band Who Made Who. Here he introduces the opening act, Nervous Cabaret (from Brooklyn).

Who Made Who are a bit of a mix between Primus and David Byrne. And they rock!

The Paris-Paris is owned by the famous French grafitti artist who created Monsieur André. Alas, it seems Mr. A has retired from the walls of Paris, but here you can see him immortalized in neon on the right of the stage!

Forget the fact that they're wearing matching sweatpants and t-shirts with Ronnie Regan on them (must be all the rage in Denmark...aside from other rages), don't miss this band if they come through your town!