so did you read the artilcle in the times yesterday about 'life lists', like the shit you want to accomplish before you die?
yeah..if i made one, i could half-scratch off imaginary #293, 'have picture taken for moderately well known street photography blog'. (it is between 'find my spirit animal at a peyote retreat in the desert' and 'cure cancer'). so anyway, i have never had any hope of ACHIEVING #293 because A) i am not a quirky waif roaming the streets of stockholm or paris and B) i am only photogenic like, 11% of the time. and so it was never a real option.
but then last friday?
I MET THE FACEHUNTER.
oooomg. dios mio. god, mary, jesus and baby jesus.
(uh, if you are making a 'umm wha?" face, then you need to PAY ATTENTION to me more often. if you ever hear me babbling on about FASHION for any amount of time you know that i am obsessed with this site. cute cute girls and their amazing looks. fucking bitches!) (the fucking sartorialist WISHES his shit was HALF as interesting)
ANYWAY... while in an inebriated state, i was coerced to go to BROOKLYN at midnight..my friend miss KR is very convincing.
she invited her friend yvan aka the facehunter to meet us and ummmm, what can i say? he is..truly a unique individual. he like a spastic french jagger-y version of the photographer in blow up. tres sexy, although tres tres..how do you say? bizarre? dance moves like i've never seen and strangley magnetic, plaid maternity shirt be damned. we all spent a lovely drunken evening sweaty dancing in a loft until the morning..i got my picture taken but i am pretty sure that that 11% of photogenicness does NOT fall within the confines of "its is 100 degrees in here, i have had too many vodkas and it is now 3AM". and so i didn't make the cut. ah well. dream half realized.