Deciding that she’d rather be broke in France which would at least confer a modicum of status and style to her predicament, a washed up NYC copywriter moves to the small village of Auvers sur Oise to see if she can survive without a nail salon and 7-11
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I knew my good old American consumerism would take effect in one form or another. It was just a matter of when, what and how much.
In NYC, every time I went out in public, I was subjected to a barrage of ridiculously expensive things that my life...
Ever since I quit my advertising job, I’ve spent very little time on Madison Avenue (meaning Barneys and Bergdorf, or as I liked to call them with a certain amount of sour grapes, fashion victim central). I havn’t looked at a Vogue, Harpers Bazaar or...
Where I come from, people stand in line for celebrities and iPhones.
Here in Auvers, it appears the most wanted men are the butchers.  On Sunday mornings before they close for their weekend, the line stretches down the main drag.
J.Y. Gicquel...
Big day. My first venture into Paris to meet my friend, Alan who is taking the bullet train down from Brussels.
This is huge. I’ve got train schedules, maps and metro paths to figure out. Naturally, I am frightened. His train gets in at 11:35 at...
I’ve gone into several hair salons advertised as Wella Salons, showed them the little bottle of Wella hair color Brad gave me and they’ve all told me (in French of course) that they don’t have it and don’t know how to use it. Finally I decide to...
