FUR ... IS FIRE. LESSON 1

It is at my very old age of fortysomething that for the first time in my life, Paris being so madly cold, I have converted myself to FUR.

Sorry it's not me. She's far better looking !

Fur doesn't grow on banana trees and is not found at the bakery, so I looked for fur in my old barn down there in the far-off Dordogne where all stacks of clothes, objects and all kinds of things have been standing there for ages. There, in my treasure quest, what did I find ? A whole trunk full of fur :  a real 50's Dior astrakan coat that the Vintage crowd would envy me, ( for once that I will be envied !), a real Venetian blond orang-outang long hair jacket, a white hair chapka which makes me look even more Russian than I already am, and 2 black fur scarves.

It all smells pretty barn- like and very old lady like but.... I don't care; I brought it all back to Paris for a go on the streets. And there, to my high surprise, with my tall and lean and high heeled black boots on, my long black comfy coat, my white chapka hiding half of my blond mane and that black fur scarf hiding part of my sagging chin, every man on the street gazed at me !!!!!!!!

Fur seen by Chanel

That's the power of  FUR. I've had that uninteresting and bland black soggy coat for ages and those glam boots for quite some time and haven't changed the colour of my hair since birth, so I have to face it : IT IS THE FUR !!!!

Try Girls,it's amazing ! You know what ? You'll even forget it's cold outside !!!