Okay, okay: I'm back. I've been laying a bit low today, nursing my mild jet-lag and my bruised aesthetic sensibilities.

Two weeks of reading magazines that mix avant-garde fashion spreads with several pages discussing the political, legal and philosophical implications of legalizing drugs (almost literally) collided with a woman, driving a Yukon Denali, who very nearly catastrophically veered into the lane presently occupied by the taxi I was riding in this morning. Why? Because she was reading Page Six while driving.

It was a thing of a sort of savage beauty, I guess you could say. Except for the part where I wished I was still in France, like we all do sometimes. Unfortunately, no amount of clicking my red shoes together is going to make that happen. At least not today.

Regarding Paris: Everything was wonderful, as I knew it would be. My other travels in France and Switzerland (the latter in a very minor way) were quite lovely, too. I resisted the urge to buy Yves Saint Laurent-brand cigarettes (the box is black matte with YSL embossed in silver, if you're wondering), but I absolutely had to nab the tote from Kookai with the following spelled out in sequins: Que serait le monde sans les filles? (quite loosely: Where would the world be without women?)

I'm afraid that's all I'm good for today. I've still got to catch up on the 200+ new emails in my inbox and return a ton of calls. So terribly unchic, I know.

Many thanks to the glamourous Ms. Merrick, for her ingeniously creative posting while I was away.


PS, When planning your next elegant vacation, do note that Mark may email you the best Paris tips if you ask nicely...

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