Okay so this post has absolutely nothing to do with style or beauty, seeing as this blog is becoming my personal space for ranting about existence on earth in general and the new developments of my everyday life in particular, but I have to ask you, WHAT’S WRONG WITH PEOPLE?

We were talking about that on Sunday with two of my French friends at Ladurée Soho, which is the clichéest thing you can do as a group of French girls, but nonetheless delightful. Even more if you’re screaming (have you ever heard a group of French girls talking in French as if no one could understand them? Has it annoyed you? Yes, sorry as that was us yesterday in the back dark corner of Ladurée.) (thing is, Laura had ordered TWO giant palmiers – a sort of crazy French cookie that’s as huge as a Céline Classic and that is a delicious but deathly blend of gluten and sugar, so we where soon hyperventilating, on sugar high, telling each other how much we were totally not having dinner that night.).

Bianca was telling me how she can’t stand living alone, Laura was telling me about how now she’s doing okay and has actually learned to enjoy solitude with a Dalai Lama expression on her face.
Yet, she’s probably the busiest girl I know and has a dinner party every night and weekends in Tulum everyday.
I looked at her with a raised eyebrow, very French On Sugar High of me.

So there, there. WHAT’S WRONG WITH PEOPLE?!

I mean, what’s wrong with me?

Since I’ve been living alone, my life is hell. I have way too much to do, too many friends, too many dinners, I’m busy, I’m busy, I’m busy.

It’s like suddenly, you’re not in a couple and the demons unleash, super fun friends come out of the woodworks and the things you thought you would NDA (never do again) suddenly feel like very valid options, like let’s say bar hopping from The Bowery (high end and annoying) to Tom and Jerry’s (dive bar and annoying) and drink like there is no tomorrow.

It’s like, since I’ve moved in to my new place, I’ve spent… What.
Four evenings alone just hanging out with myself?


So for a little while, I thought it was just because I’m just so busy.
I’m so in demand. I’m so crazy popular, what can I do? Right?

And I mean, it’s not like I’m alone being in the popular zone. Except for one friend of mine who’s in burnt out territory (new York will do that to you if you’re not careful!) and is living a love story with her bed, most my friends have a crazy, neverending, high voltage social life.

Dinners every night, OF COURSE. Pre dinner drinks. Lunches. Crazy New York weekends that I probably already debriefed for you in the past.
We’re actually all pretty crazy popular if you know what I mean. No time to be alone ! Way too many people to see and too many things to do ! It’s like having a burning social fire up your ass 100% of the time.

Till the day you forgot to make plans.

That’s the Southern French speaking to you, here. The girl who, before becoming a New Yorker with loneliness anxiety, would never ever make any plans and would call her friends at the last minute (if she felt like it) and check up on what they were doing.
Usually they were just hanging (probably smoking pot and laughing around) and they would all meet organically, no stress. No plans. Organic. Weed. Huhuhuhuhuhuhuh.

Anyways, so sometimes I do forget to make plans. You have to forgive me. With such a crazy busy social life, sometimes you don’t even have time to book your next weekend!
And then I find myself alone, in my apartment, with no plans, and I am the happiest person there can be on planet Earth, it’s so great.

Goooood okay.
Let’s make a tea.
Oh, a text! Emily sending me a photo of her on the trapeze! Trapeze afternoon! Fun!

Why am I not doing something exciting like trapeze right now again?
Oh yeah cause I didn’t make plans.
Why didn’t I make plans again?
Oh yeah, cause I didn’t have time to. Maybe I didn’t really want to?
Or because, my friends are all doing exciting things and I’m left out?
Remember, Sarah asked me if I wanted to play tennis and I said no?
I could have had a plan, had I wanted.
See? So all is good. I’m gonna stay here and enjoy my beautiful solitude.
But wait. Let me just check to make sure. What is Paul doing?

Garance to Paul : Hey what’s up?
Paul to Garance : I’m in Japan you just woke me up [guns and skulls emoticons]
Garance to Paul : Who sleeps with their phone not on silent? Even more when they are in Japan? Pfffffff. Come back soon.

Yeah so okay so it’s all good so I’m just gonna stay here and enjoy my own company for once.
Let’s try to read that Lena Dunham book.
Okay but first let’s check what Delphine is doing.

Garance to Delphine : Yo what’s up?
Delphine to Garance : I’m biking on the highline with Wes! Come with!!!
Garance to Delphine : No way I’m enjoying solitude as we speak. So good.
Delphine to Garance : Then why are you texting me?
Garance to Dephine : Aaaaargh shit okay I’m coming.

That’s it. Some people write books called 100 Years Of Solitude and some can’t even spend a New York minute alone. Guess who’s the literary genius of the two? Yeaaaaah (read that book it’s amazing by the way)(if you can stand to be alone with no external stimulus for more than five minutes that is)(Lena, I’m on your case. Your books seems amazing, I’m totally reading it.)

So, hey now. WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?

Well, I guess I forgot how to be alone. In the city that never sleeps (oh my God that formula was even more cliché than three French girls spending an afternoon at Ladurée) you can spend 100% of your time out and connected.

Being busy is a sort of natural state today. People LOVE being busy, people glorify being busy, people feel like they’re not actually existing when they are not busy. I don’t know where it came from, that feeling of self importance we derive from our busidom.
Some people will go very low to not be not busy (like go riding a bike on the highline ahahah just kidding Delphine)(or shopping for things they don’t need)(or going on a date just out of boredom like my friend that just can’t stand a Sunday evening alone) and be with themselves.

We’re like kids who want to be entertained all the time.
Yet, we all know that leaving kids alone playing on their own in their bedroom is the best way for them to develop a creative and interesting life.

The first time I lived alone after university, right after years of living with my best friend, was a real shock for me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. But after a few weeks of freaking out, one evening I got inspired, put on some jazz, and made my first collage.
It was beautiful. Super meaningful. I still love it.
It was the first time I was creating something on my own, for me, just because.

It’s probably that collage, that moment, that paved the way to the creative life I’m living today.

Had I not put myself in a real moment of solitude, I would probably be a banker and would have never invented the iPhone like I did.

They’re just too crazy busy!

I’m not anymore. I’m enjoying my solitude.

DON’T call me.