iPhone Photo Chronicles
~ Pensez Pink ~
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Sometimes, very rarely, you see a Parisian punk, a French one, and it's hilarious. I mean, so unusual, that they do get looks.
Which slams it home to me that in London about 50% of the people walking down Oxford Street have ripped tartan trousers, chains and safety pins dripping from every orifice, and razor sharp pink Mohicans the size of theLondon Eye threatening to take your eye out at ten paces.
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To be honest, the underground SDF community has a lot more solidarity and mutual camaraderie and commradeship than there is in my own life. I have to give them that.
In terms of cars, even if you do have a red Ferrari in the garage, the last thing to do is drive through the middle of Paris with the roof down (can you do that with Ferraris - oops) and the stereo blasting. One doesn't show; one doesn't flash. One is subtle and one fits in. Conforms to a great extent.
Little aberrations from the above norms are generally looked upon as harmless idiosyncrasies, and not taken seriously. Unless you want to get the MD's job, in which case your shocking pink Fiat 500 probably ain't gonna cut it. There are limits.
As for me, I was never a punk, but I was a sort of hybrid hippy/rocker, with long blond hair down to my waist, five earrings and a couple of jackets which would definitely got me some disapproving stares in dear old Paris if I'd been here at the time. Those days are gone, alas, and the most daring I get these days is almost shaving my head occasionally in an attempt to be vaguely cool before there's vaguely nothing to shave. Funny how what goes down must come up, don't you think? And if you do, think pink.
And why not...
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© 2012 Sab Will / Paris Set Me Free - Contact me directly for photo tours, interviews, exhibitions, etc.
© 2012 Sab Will / Paris Set Me Free - Contact me directly for photo tours, interviews, exhibitions, etc.
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