Sunday, 29 August 2010


So I was walking past a department store yesterday and swooned a little (a freakin' lot) at the large Gaspard Ulliel staring down at me in his new ad campaign for Chanel's latest men's fragrance Bleu de Chanel. If it smells anywhere near as knee quivering as Allure Homme Sport then I want every attractive male in a 10 mile radius to douse themselves in it.

When I heard there was a short film directed by Martin Scorsese accompanying the ad campaign (a TV advert then?), I sniffed it out on Chanel's YouTube channel (oh my) and waited with baited breath as my dire internet connection wheezed and spluttered it onto my screen.

And my, was I disappointed. Yeah, there's mystery, blah, Gaspard's newfound gruff hotness, blah, romance, blah, but what the devil does he say at the end?! It took me three rewinds to hear, 'I'm not going to be the person I'm expected to be anymore'. Initially I heard, 'I'm not going to be the person who makes poxy TV anymore'. Which obviously had me confused. Really confused.

Don't you just hate it when indecipherable mumblings kill an ad's (sorry, film's) momentum? Especially when that mumbling is falling out of such a beautiful creature's mouth.

Oh well.

Sunday, 15 August 2010


I love photography, especially really great portrait photography or fashion photography. None of that pretentious fashion bullshit that the cheaper magazines try and fail to do, but really good photos of really photogenic people. However, the process of taking the photos makes me cringe. How can someone be so narcissistic as to stand there and mince around really slowly in front of the camera whilst making sure their face says, 'Sex me' and their body says, 'Buy this shit'?

Take this kid (he's just turned 16, oh Jesus) for example. Hi Sylvester Ulv! You should be out tearing up the streets on your BMX/working a crappy Saturday job/illegally buying alcohol but instead you're getting your MAKE-UP done and pouting for Denmark. It's. Just. Not. Right.

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