I spent the last days of September in Paris, promoting the new issue of Kennedy. I stayed once more in the small Parisian apartment of a good friend in the Marais. The sun was sneaking through the big windows every morning up on to my futon bed and my weary eyes. Armed with a baguette with ham and cheese that I ordered with an accent that embarrasses me most of the time, I take to the streets of Paris around the the beloved neighbourhood of Marais.
Fashion week is blooming and among the crowds you encounter stylistic atrocities that are an alarming reminder of everything that is wrong with the term fashion. After a quick coffee at Peloton, and a chat with my ginger American friend Cooper on French wines and bicycles I head off to 0fr and on the way I embark on a series of unexpected meetings that culminate on a rewarding couscous meal and a glass of red.
Nick is just round the corner outside her temporary studio dressed in a pair of impressively wide balloon pants. Paris is the city of random meetings. It’s one of the reasons I love walking its streets. The rest of the day I’m in the 1st, walking aimlessly around Place Vendôme and mingling in with the flamboyantly dressed crowds outside Colette, who wait patiently for a shot by Mr Sartorialist dressed in their peacock-like gowns.
It’s the opening of the magazine tonight. I hastily return to buy some glasses and put some posters up the wall. Anxiety builds. Friends keep turning up in every corner. A quick beer with Nico at Les Progress before heading back to the bookstore. A red wine and then another and another. Smiles and camera flashes. My overgrowing stress hits alert levels. I go backstage to wash some glasses. I suddenly realise it’s 8.30. Friends get scattered in different directions for dinner. I realise I don’t have any plans but Paris is always full of options. We end up having tapas with Alexis, Raphael and Vidal. Everything gets blurred from wine and the city lights are bright red.
Chris Kontos is a photographer, DJ and publisher of Kennedy Magazine.