Ellie Goulding covered Alt-J's "Tessellate" and then made a video of her dancing around Paris for it.
The velvet headband!
I was standing in front of my apartment building in the 15th arrondissement of Paris, wondering where to go next. The woman who’d rented me her servant's quarters, a room on the 11th floor adjoining her apartment and accessible by an outdoor walkway that passed her kitchen window, had just raised the rent on me for the third time in three months.
I knew where I wasn’t wanted: four months earlier she’d asked me to stop cooking “smelly things” (like spaghetti or vegetables) in her kitchen (access to which had originally been part of the deal), and then asked me to stop cooking things she could [...]
The six flights of stairs leading down, and presumably back up out of this smoker(fire)-friendly bar designed by the evermore Lynchian David Lynch might scare some, but look at all that shiny gold!
Edith Zimmerman: Frequent traveler and Wikipedia enthusiast Chiara Atik just took a trip to Paris for Christmas and New Year's, which she chronicled on Tumblr and Instagram, inspiring both jealousy and vicarious delight. Chiara! Did you stay in one place or did you move around, hotel/apartment-wise?
Chiara Atik: One place! AirBnB. I think I'd be too lazy to move around, but that seems like a cool way to see different parts of a city. It was so nice to have an apartment there, though, to grocery shop, hang out on the couch, and just feel like a local for a week.
("Forgive all our sins and receive us graciously, that we may offer the fruit of our lips.”
In older translations, it’s “calves of our lips,” but Rupert Van Deutz preferred the former for reasons that will become obvious.)
After a month of rain the sun is finally shining through the windows into my Medieval Latin class. We’re reciting and translating the “Scala coeli,”or “Stairway to Heaven” from Latin to French at nine in the morning, a bitter irony. We're all so groggy that all we aspire to is the coffee machine in the hallway downstairs. “Scala Coeli” is, from what I can make [...]
One night in his Paris garden apartment, my best friend Juan was making me dinner (spaghetti with frankfurter rondelles, carrots, tomatoes, and onions, his specialty), and he told me that a bird had come to visit him the day before. He was puzzled that birds were always coming into his apartment from the garden. I explained to him that it was only to be expected: viewed from the garden, his place didn’t really seem to be inhabited by a human being at all. The back windows opened onto the garden at eye level — and by opened, I mean opened wide every morning, all year round, whatever the weather, because [...]
Once again, I’d been dumped. That wasn’t the hard part. I was getting used to being dumped, and had developed a routine involving a lot of sushi and frequent chair massages. Learned to see the advantages in not having a man in my hair all the time. No, what really smarted was that I’d been on the verge of dumping my dumper (Aha! For once it would be me in charge!) when he’d beaten me to it. Long distance, no less. And then, of course, I’d changed my mind: “No, wait!”
But it was too late. I wasn’t getting enough sleep. I had no appetite. I was pining away, getting [...]
One day I overstayed a birthday visit to Paris by about 10 years. That tenth spring found me in that awkward phase we 30-somethings often go through, called “still between boyfriends.” This phase had gone on for so long that I didn’t even want a boyfriend anymore. In fact, ever since noticing a beautifully wrinkled and mysteriously sensual older French woman at a friend’s party, and, having inquired if she was the wife of the frizzy-haired, balding older man with the huge, horn-rimmed glasses next to her, and being informed that, “Nooo, she’s his mistress. They’ve been lovers for many years,” I’d decided that loverhood was what I aspired [...]