From : Sophie Fontanel

Subject : garrrrrrrrrannnnnnnce!

Date : June 11 2009 11:00:45 HAEC

To : Garance Doré

Yeah, so even though I follow your life every day, I MISS YOU!

When are you coming back?

Quick question for you, I was wondering if you could bring back a pair of MBTs from New York. Size 6 1/2. I have all confidence in you for picking out the least ugly, they are pretty dreadful. But did you hear that they’re the only sneakers that tone up your tush? Ha!

Inès brought a pair back. Me so jealous.

So if you’re not too busy and if you can squeeze a pair of MBTs into your suitcase, you would bring me oceans of joy.

And if you don’t have time or space, I’ll understand, no worries…


I love your cut off jogging shorts.

Fonette is so nice, but listen, I’m even nicer. I’m a good one, a true friend. I know well what MBTs are. I don’t know why I know what they are, but I know. They’re those enormous round sneakers, like how we used draw shoes as kids, like if you had a rugby ball on each foot. I think I saw them at Corso Como. My personal opinion? You sure you want to hear it?

They’re revolting.

I don’t spend each and every day tearing my feet apart in heels to see my friends announcing the death of style… Just like that, no remorse. And all that just because they think it gives your buns a nice workout. Heels give your butt a workout too, by the way. Yeah, ok. And so what if they tear apart your feet as well.

From : Garance Doré

Subject : garrrrrrrrrannnnnnnce!

Date : June 11 2009 11:00:47 HAEC

To : Sophie Fontanel

I miss you too but…


I swear on my mother’s life, never will I bring those things back for you. One day, believe me, you’ll thank me. For that matter, you can thank me now.



There, I’m proud of myself. If there were more people like me on earth, in a few months, there would be nothing left but style, harmony and beauty. And torn up feet. OK.

Tuesday, June 16th, so five days later, I learn that Fonelle got her hands on some MBTs. Some traitor to French chic (you can’t find those in Paris, it’s a sign, right? And a good one, no?) must have slipped a pair in under her jacket. Where has Parisian chic gone? Coco and Christian must be turning in their graves.

A few weeks later, in London for my 007 top secret casting, I’m watching the girls and boys pass by, sipping down my latte.

Wait, that girl is gorgeous… I love her allure, her big jacket, and there… What the?… NOOOOOOO HELL AND DAMNATION!!! MBTS!!! I choke on my latte. I’m leaving. And guess what…

Yep. Most of my afternoon I spend seeing these damn shoes and screaming. And on a whole bunch of people who are usually pretty well put together. Lots of girls, even. You want my opinion?


But I feel like I can’t stop the invasion of hell and damnation. I feel like these are going to be like Birkenstocks.  Those shoes, oh man. We’ll all say they’re ugly and then in three years we’ll all be wearing them, and they’ll have them in pink, gold, even sparkly ones, and we’ll think it’s all normal.



PS: For those of you like me, starting to believe that my obsession with heels is becoming a true obsession, i have to tell you that I found a pair of ballet flats at Zara that I just love. They have found the perfect formula for ballet flats. Perfectly flat, perfectly cut, and perfectly classic, the only thing is that I went to go get some groceries at the corner shop on Saturday and when I got home, half of the soles were already devoured.

I decided that I’ll just have to buy 10 pairs. That should get me through to the start of winter!

PPS: I’ve seen Fonelle a bunch of times since our little exchange. But never with her MTBs. Do you think I scared her or something?

PPPS: Converse forever.

Translation : Tim Sullivan