Balenciaga hat I showed you the other day.
Not so sure where this giant millinery ant wants to nest, but while I wouldn't want him at my picnic. . . .
If you're curious about the prices on that list you can glimpse underneath Mr. Ant's nether parts, they range from 350 to 600 or 800 Euros, if I remember correctly. Better just too look then, if your budget's anything like mine. Window-shopping's free, after all!
The earthy levels of our aardvark, for example (and I suppose that Ant, a few doors away, might be twitching antennae nervously and scurrying back to its hill, away from hungry anteaters).
and perhaps even made a note of the price list . . .
So I'll leave you with one last window dressed with unconventional materials -- in this case, computer cables in a variety of colours, cleverly complementing a Vitrine full of luxury goods (the cynic in me pipes up about the sustainability of our cabled world and whether that might have anything to do with our vanishing gorillas a few windows away, but she shrugs a realistic/resigned shrug and chooses to be consoled with beauty or ingenuity or mere distraction, perhaps -- And perhaps raised consciousness, tickled by art, can make meaningful change. And what did cynicism ever do for her anyway?)
I'll leave you with that, shall I, and totter off for a Kir somewhere in the day's waning sunshine. When next I write to you, I'll be in a different city. I suspect there will be wonderful windows there as well. À bientôt!
And I'm sorry I'm not finding time to respond to your lovely comments, but I've decided I'm going to enjoy reading them -- and please, please do keep them coming! -- but not feel guilty if I don't answer. Time with Pater is the priority for now, quite honestly, as much as we both appreciate your huge contribution to this blog. I hope (indeed, knowing your generosity, I'm quite sure) you'll understand if I take this break from my normal efforts to answer each and every response individually.