Chris from Major Model Management

Hello! Here are my latest photos taken from Hyères with two or three things to remember before leaving for some editorial assignment this first weekend of May


1 – Must have a holey shirt.

That’s according to Emmanelle Alt in La Mode La Mode La Mode and if that’s what she said, then I’d take her word for it. And if Chris, above, chimed in to agree, I’d rush to the nearest shop. As I didn’t have a tee tattered with holes, I went to AmApp to buy a super low-cut tank top, the kind that would get you ten new friends soon as you bend down. I hooked the shirt to the tire and rolled my car on broken glass. As a result, said shirt would make me gain ten new friends per second, no bending down required. A perfect wear for summer.

2 – Must have a head gear.

Personally, I love the cap. But I passed up the chance because I was too old had too many accessories on me, although I’d like to wear a Panama hat. I almost bought one yesterday but it was too small. I asked if they had my size, and they said, “Yes, of course, just make an order and you’ll get it in six months.”

I said, “What the hell!” (yes, my Italian is slowly coming back).?Supposing the item would come (6 months, say we count in Hermès years and probably calculate in Hermès currency, so we pretty much pay in gold), I went on asking further, “How much is it?”

“997 Euros”?Not 9.97 Euros, not 99.7 Euros, no. It’s 997 Euros.?Bon, at that price, I’m better off traveling to Central America myself and searching for my own Panama hat, right?

3 – Must have a scarf.

Aaaaah, but what the heck are you talking about, Garance?  You think we’d expect you to bring the scarf? (No, but whatever.).?Look girls, you know well that we’re in an extremely advanced fashion arena. While the scarf touches the chests of all the young privileged girls, it’s time we tackle the issue of the after-scarf.

We had argued over this case in Hyères with Géraldine and Géraldine and I have the answer. So, so indeed, what exactly do we do with scarves, huh?

In any case, Portofino is simply divine. The sun plays hide-and-seek with the clouds, giving off an intense and dramatic light on the ifs that dominate the hill. The birds sing, the sea is calm and the fishermen make a catch that will bring tagliatelle al vongole to the table. My calorie counter is totally useless. The place is strikingly beautiful that my mouth hangs wide open. In Italy, everybody takes advantage of your moments of relaxation to prepare you delicious pasta, but you did well in advising me to chuck all diets out the door from the moment I didn’t manage to remove a tree inside my (huge) rental car.

I leave you to ponder on the scarf issue. So for a couple of days, while waiting, I’ll try, as in try hard to raise my arm—a bit higher, the highest it could reach—to take a few snapshots. After all, dear children, Italy’s such a beauty to behold.

Panama can wait, though.