For once, I was feeling like I was on my game in terms of travel.

I actually succeeded in getting my suitcase to be less than 456 pounds. I have all my toiletries in little ziplock bags so they don’t explode all over each other during the trip and each pair of shoes is carefully arranged in its spot and not just strewn all over the place.

Sigh of satisfaction.


So perfect that even Perfecta Bruni-Sarkozi (the president of Perfecta) couldn’t have done better.

I knew it was going to be super hot in Venice so I pretty much only brought skirts and a pair of mini-shorts*.

Okay to the point, cause my intro is so whatever that I didn’t even come close to mentioning my subject, and if I had time, I would even tell you that I am so Perfecta I even got up at 6:00 a.m. for a yoga class. Remind me to tell you that story, it’s quite the tale…

——- My men out there, you can just stop reading right here. Today, all you get is an illustration. Okay? ——-


And yeah, seeing as I still haven’t finished the last my laser treatments, I still shave my legs. It’s good, clean, quick, yep.

Yeah except for the times when I don’t have time to do it and Scott runs his hand up my leg and I just want to die right then and there, but other than that it’s great.

To the point…

No razor, no pants in which to hide my misery and not one second to do any shopping.

Emergency mission. I gave myself a half hour to find a razor.

(I’m just realizing now that I’m sitting here building and building suspense for you even though I don’t really have a topic today, well yes, I do, but no real conclusion.)

So here I am in Venice in a quest for art, beauty, culture, AND A RAZOR.

I found it all. Except the razor.

Because my Googlemaps couldn’t find a supermercato. Oh look, more I Love Venezia e la pasta t-shirts and venetian masks that even Lady Gaga wouldn’t wear, and on look, there they are again, on every street corner. But try to find someone with a razor in Venice, and nope nope nope.

I ended up asking some Venetians, who were actually super nice. Except that supermercato has to maybe mean something different in Italian because I ended up in something sort of like Best Buy, except they had EVERYTHING, except razors.

Nooooooooooo !!!!! (—–> internal cry of rage. There are only three minutes left for me to find a fd&*&#da razor.)

And right when I was about to start grabbing one Venetian to attack another, or sneak attack them with my  my lethal legs (hey men out there, aren’t you glad you didn’t stop reading earlier?), right then, I came across a shelf of electric tweezers. One of those things that’s like “hundreds of tweezers at once.”

Sigh of satisfaction.

Perfecta was back.

And in her semi-hysterical brain, a little thought bubble began to form:

“How genius is this!!! A tweezer machine!!! I’m totally gonna buy it, wake up a half-hour earlier tomorrow morning**, smooth myself up quick and be as cool as can be during my trip in Venice. Vive mini-shorts!!!* How genius am I!? Life is so beautiful on the journey toward art, beauty, culture, and ELECTRIC TWEEZERS!!!”

On that note, a little present for you:

I’ll spare you the nightmare of the pain of electronic tweezers.

The noise.

An hour and a half to do half a leg.

That said, you can’t escape a little description of my legs a few hours after the treatment.

So, when was the last time you had a margarita pizza?

Voilà, need a I say more? Red, white and puffed up.

Skirt? Minishorts? What? Dolce Vita? Perfecta? Excuse me?

Conclusion : Don’t leave for Venice without a razor. If you’re a man, don’t read on when a woman says to stop reading or else you might end up face to face with a margarita pizza. If you’re a woman, explain to me what I can do with this little machine… Put it on Ebay? No? Okay, kidding.

Other than that, my legs are doing much better.

Four days after the catastrophe, they are no longer a margarita pizza, but more like an installation by Yayoi Kusama.

Yep. My legs are works of art. And only in Venice could that happen.

Did you catch that super subtle transition there? I know you were just dying for me to talk to you about contemporary art since you oh so respect my expertise as an art critic and full expect it from me. And considering my deep knowledge on the subject, this is sure to be good. And it’s coming soon.


* I should add that I’m now in Paris and I’m freezing. Really, I did an incredible job packing my suitcase, I just also forgot everything.

** So at 5:30, to get my legs all ready for yoga, I truly am Ms. Perfecta.

PS : This illustration is a commision I did for the Turkish brand Vakko, and I love it ! Big hugs!

Translation : Tim Sullivan