For anyone who didn't follow my former blog, I had an ongoing series called "Mobile Moments," featuring low-res photos from my everyday life that had little to no context and were taken with my mobile phone. It's a fun way to get a little insight into Paris' quirks, and a low-effort post for me, so I figured I'd keep the tradition alive. And so, without further ado...
To start with, here's are some chic, promotional Coca-Cola bottles, that apparently feature some Franco-german fashion designer and photographer (Karl Lagerfeld) but to me just look like Pulp Fiction's Vincent Vega in profile. In college we used to break up our all-night paper writing sessions with random Pulp Fiction dancing interludes, so every time I see this bottle I get the urge to start doing the twist down the store aisle:
A rainbow that I saw walking home from work along rue Daguerre one night:
A ridiculous pastry concoction I spied in the window of a patisserie in the 17th: basically a stack of éclairs topped with a réligieuse (a flat, round eclair made of two spheres stacked snowman-style, literally translates to "nun" and so named because they apparently look like a portly sister in her habit). I hope that these are meant to be portioned out to an entire family like a Thanksgiving turkey, because this "marquise" is way too many calories for anyone to eat in one sitting. At 3.30, it's great chocolate bang for your buck, though (euphoria for your euro?)--a single éclair is usually at least 2 euros.
A snazzy mural on the side of a building across from the Edgar Quinet stop, in the Montparnasse area:
A random Chinese restaurant from Avenue de Choisy in the 13th that makes me chuckle whenever I pass it because it seems ripe for an inter-lingual "who's on first"/ Dr. Who routine:
("Hey, wanna party with us tonight? We're going to Chez hu."
Children playing in the central place of the 14th arrondissement's town hall after school got out for the day:
A bizarre sighting in my local grocery store, where a man was apparently repairing the freezers. Most people seemed to walk by without noticing the feet protruding from in-between the peas and the pizzas (although one passing elderly woman almost had a heart attack when he shifted suddenly). I had a really strong desire to grab one of his shoes and make a run for it. Or tie the laces together. I'm a horrible person:
An impressive fish display from the same local supermarket, featuring a full-sized ray, a shark head stuffed with lemons and a swordfish skewering even more citrus. I think their fish guy is either an aspiring installation artist or just really bored:
Modern, Mondrian-looking building that seems oddly out of place in my neighborhood (and also has a depressing lack of windows):
A pretty "legit" looking fortune-telling shop. Every surface on the inside looked to be cram-packed with charms and potions, but I was too afraid of voodoo curses to attempt venturing in with a camera:
I'm not exactly sure what this sticker is advertising (a guerilla suburban antifascist squad?) but it looks pretty hardcore, whatever it is:
Sometimes Europeans will put random English words on products to increase their cool factor, especially kid's products or trendy screen-printed t-shirts in Zara. Here's a girl's diary/planner that seems to be attempting English but failing on so many levels--kiss me pissy?
And to come full circle, here's another promo Coca-Cola bottle--this time for the FIFA World Cup (yeah, so it's long past, but the bottles are still in grocery stores). The text in the blue block translates to "celebrate the goals!", but my (juvenile) anglophone mind always reads it as "celebrate the butts!"
Looking over these, and seeing how many of them come from the grocery store, I just realized that I must get my kicks in strolling down the supermarket soda isle. Which is ironic, considering that I don't even DRINK soda, although logical enough when you consider that by the time I make it to the store at the end of the day I'm usually a bit punchy from fatigue.
Or maybe it's just pathetic. Hmph. Well if that's what you think, dear reader, then I have three choice words for you: kiss my pissy!