As reported by Cator Sparks

It’s been a long time since I’ve been in love with Paris. My last several visits have entailed rotten taxi drivers, queeny waiters and begging gypsies yanking at my cravat. But there’s something to be said about Paris during fashion week. There’s a snap in the air! Every building, street and monument sparkles. Maybe it’s because handsome editors, buyers, models and clothes, are constantly inspiring me. Yes, in Paris everyone dresses better. As my friend Anna said, “They God damned well better or they aren’t getting into the shows wearing trainers like they can in NYC!”

Besides the shows, there are always the little things about Paris that inspire. Take the font of the Café Charlot.
It’s a dream in rouge and whimsy. And speaking of, look what they’ve done to The New York Times- A frites wrapper?
Even with Obamamania reaching new heights here, they still find ways to take a jab don’t they?

Last night, after the Raf Simons show, I had drinks in the Defender Bar in the Hotel du Louvre. It was as close to stepping into Diana Vreeland’s Billy Baldwin-designed scarlet red living room, as I will get. Even the water came with a dash of red currents in the bottom of the glass. The experience was heightened by the jazz quartet that was jamming while we drank. Classic standards like Night and Day and My Love Is Here To Stay, wafted through the air. The music, the décor and the cocktails had us in nirvana until the bill came; 80 Euros for three drinks. I guess the recession hasn’t hit Paris yet. No matter, we paid and dashed out to a nearby café for a nightcap where we ran into Tim Hamilton. Tim is in town with his crew presenting his Fall collection. We’re taking a peak on Sunday. When the last White Russian was sipped we dashed back to the Marais. An early night was much needed as tomorrow’s gonna be a late one at the Pony Step party. What does one wear to such an event?
Riding Boots?