Saturday, 20 February 2010


Yesterday was spending money day - but all on a shoestring budget. What I want to know is, how can you buy beautiful knickers in Paris for 8 euro with all the right spots, ruffles and super soft fabrics and 14 euro bras that fit well but just over the channel in London, the equivalent is scratchy, looks cheaper than it cost, fits like it was designed by a blind dog and is usually hot pink with plastic crystals. Answers on a postcard please.
It is seriously no wonder French women walk well and have great hair - they dont have their finger in their knickerline all day.

So obviously I wandered around yesterday and this is the derrr part. Anytime anyone says 'Did you visit the Marais?' I say 'Oh no I never go there' thinking it was near the big Arc or something. It dawn on me yesterday that I usually spend most of my time in the Marais - not only cause I like the area but whenever I go I get lost which is fun - but when you have an agenda and the GPS on your phone swings between to locations its a pain the arse. What a fucktard.
After that I tried to visit a shop on Faubourg de Montmartre where you could get your auro photographed. It was closed down and the space now sold nasty shoes, bags and nylon scarves. So I went back the otherway past all the fancy dress shops, through some cute shopping arcade, and back down to rue/ave Montmartre to a specialist cookbook shop that I knew sold vintage books. I dropped some serious euro on a 1956 patisserie cookbook. Not only food porn disgusting cakes which I love, but the book has every starter recipe for all the basics - genoise, brioche, pate - the one with the circumflex on the a not the acute on the e, choux and then every french cake ever with the permutation recipe. Afternoon teas for summer here we come!

Xx Lektrogirl


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