Quietly Poetic

On January 21, Junya Watanabe presented his Fall 2011 men’s wear collection.  It was an artful collage the familiar and new.  Models ambulated in shrunken trousers, classic blazers fashioned of Fair Isle knits and buffalo plaid parkas.   The complete look was honest and quietly poetic.

It was my third day in Paris, I had had become fed up with the minutia of my life back home.  So I bought a plane ticket and found a fairly inexpensive hotel in the 7^th arrondissement.  I had no major plans I just wanted to get lost in a place that was unfamiliar.  By the third day I had found my routine, get up late, go to the café around the corner to people watch, and pick as spot on the map to explore.  On this morning I had gotten up late and I rushed to my café to watch the Parisians converge onto this café like savanna animals to a water hole.  The women, who with their gamine frames, especially fascinated me. Balanced on high heels they navigated the ancient cobbles with such ease, almost like egrets they floated and danced over the streets, barely touching the ground.  In great contrast I lumbered along like an over served water buffalo. 

I make it out the hotel doors and I see that my tardiness has left no tables open.  I became panicked at the site and I dash across the street to see if there is any hope.  I see one open table, a small one in the corner and I scurry over and sit down. Unfortunately there is body across from me, in my haste I fail to notice that someone had the same thought and we sit at the same time. 

He looks at me and says, “excusez-moi”, I look at him and say “I’m sorry, je parle Francais, un petite peu. Parlez vous Anglaise?”  “Are you American?” he says.  I say, “yes”.  “Would you like to share this table?”, he shakes his head yes. 

I order a café au lait avec chocolate croissant and he the same, and I pull out my map to plot my move for the day and I hear the deep rumble of his voice, “Are you on Holiday?”  The base of his voice was like that of a Harley, the vibrations tickling my ears.  I can’t help but giggle. I look over the top of the map and confirm his question. I finally get a chance to look at him closely and I see before me a dark and handsome man, who’s cavernous eyes seem to hide some sort of secret.  “And you?” I ask.  “I am here for work,” he tells me, “I am from Poland, my name is Lucian.” I shake is large hands and I tell him mine.  “What do you do?” I ask, “that takes you so far from home.” “I am artist”, he replies. 

 

Our orders arrive at this moment and he takes off his coat to enjoy.  I take a break for the conversation to look and my prey, how I envy their seemingly simple way of life, meeting friends for lunch and taking 2 hour lunches how was all this possible?

“Your eyes, they dance like butterflies,” he says to me.  ‘Come again?” I ask.  “Your eyes they dance like butterflies, from one place to another like little butterflies.”  With so much to see I guess my eyes betray me.  “I’m sorry”, “Why? Your eyes are eating up our surroundings, you are enjoying no?”  I nod yes.  I have a hard time looking him in his eyes, it feels like the intensity of his gaze might burn a hole right through me, so I choose his jacket with its intricate pattern and classic color scheme. 

“Are you by yourself” he asks me, I reply “yes.”  “So brave, for a young pretty woman to travel alone.”  “I’m not so young and not so brave”, I tell him.  My eyes make their way from his jacket to his socks, which are navy blue with tiny little cornflower specks.  How odd that his pants were so short and that he was wearing a pair of brown suede shoes with the combination. 

We finish and pay and he asks me if I would like to meet for dinner.  “Sure”, I reply to him.  “Meet me here at café at 2000?” It takes me a second, and I say “Oh! 8 o’clock pm!” and agree, he puts his coat back on and gives me a hug.  His arms were strong and comfortable and I catch a whiff of his cologne the strong masculine odor fill my nostrils and sends my heart a flutter.  As he walks away, I think, “This could be the distraction I need.”

View complete collection at: http://www.style.com/fashionshows/review/F2011MEN-JNWATNBE