I’ve been lying in my sickbed with a constant rotation of lemon and honey, paracetamol, cough syrup and Mucomyst (the best cold medicine ever, if you go to France pick some up, it’s amazing). I’ve also watched my weekly quota of films in two days. Dinner for Schmucks? Lasted 35 minutes before I had to [...]]]>

I’ve been lying in my sickbed with a constant rotation of lemon and honey, paracetamol, cough syrup and Mucomyst (the best cold medicine ever, if you go to France pick some up, it’s amazing). I’ve also watched my weekly quota of films in two days. Dinner for Schmucks? Lasted 35 minutes before I had to switch it off. Inception? Disappointing. The Wrestler? Kind of empty.

Maybe I wasn’t giving these films my all, but the only one that passed muster was ‘Blame It On Fidel‘, 7.6 on IMDB! It’s a French film about a headstrong young girl who refuses to go along with her parents new-found leftwing leanings. It was a really nice trip down Français memory lane, and left me hankering after a prim round-collar shirt (last pic). You’ve got till next Sunday to watch it on iPlayer, it’s such a wonderful film with a light touch that I urge you to give it a go.

These pictures from 1962 show a side to Paris which you don’t often see anymore, the scruffy everyday chic when people only washed their hair a few times a week and scrubbed at stains rather than chuck it in the washing machine. I love seeing through the nostalgia to the smellier, dirtier times people lived [...]]]>

These pictures from 1962 show a side to Paris which you don’t often see anymore, the scruffy everyday chic when people only washed their hair a few times a week and scrubbed at stains rather than chuck it in the washing machine. I love seeing through the nostalgia to the smellier, dirtier times people lived in.

It reminds me of a line from For The City by Stevie Wonder, ‘her clothes are old but never are they dirty’. My grandfather is the KING of stain removal and general damage limitation. I remember him colouring in the soles of my shoes with a felt tip pen so they would match the leather better and rushing me to the bathroom to scrub off any flecks of watermelon juice. I guess that’s the legacy of growing up in an occupied country during the war, you had to be ingenious to look smart. It makes me smile when I think of ultra-expensive Ed Hardy style distressed jeans, my grandparents have never worn trainers, or even jeans.

Having to make do and mend, even during postwar years, is perhaps a reason that the French are so attached to classic looks. It’s one of the things that the French are great at, not replacing something old for something new unless absolutely necessary. I guess that’s why when I go to the Marché Victor Hugo in Toulouse you still see scenes like the mushroom stall pictured bottom right.

These pictures are from Flickr, found through India Knight’s amazing Posterous.