Sophie is a journalist and writer.

That’s how I knew her. We met once outside a runway show but I’d been reading her articles in Elle for years before. I had so much admiration for her, her intelligence and sense of humor.

She called me one day just out of the blue to go get some coffee… I had no idea why she wanted to meet up. At first, I told myself that she was just a journalist who wanted to know what exactly a blogger was. But really, it was pretty cool that she was interested.

I told myself we would have a quick coffee, à la New Yorkaise, and that it wouldn’t go further than that.

We had that coffee, and then started texting each other, a lot of texting, and then we worked together, and had some more coffee, at Café de Flore most of the time, and spent entirely too much time talking on the phone, about everything: men, outfits, our childhood, our parents… Et voilà : Now I love her oh so very dearly.

Sophie is a divine writer and she just came out with her 8th book that talks a little about her mother, a lot about life, and I can say it hasn’t left my side since I read it.

The book is called Grandir.* And when she talks about it almost with tears in her eyes, she’s so touched by the book’s success, I really want to just hold her in my arms.

But I wouldn’t dare.

So we change the subject, we re-steep the tea, or she jumps on her Smart car to go back to window shopping. We have encounters with angels, we wig out about her new Fendi, we laugh about everything and smile endlessly. And I like it that way.

* : Which means growing up, but the book is not yet translated in english…

Translation : Tim Sullivan