I’ve probably exhausted enough Instagram captions and similar such serenades to the city of love to give you some actual imagery of this magical Seine sunrise that I’ve been relentlessly raving about. Admittedly, Paris is stunningly beautiful in any kind of light and season – we don’t need to go into that again. But, at sun-up, when tourists and locals alike are still asleep for at least another couple of hours, the silence allows you to channel all your sensory focus into the muted colours of sunrise, and the subsequent goosebumps down the back of your neck.
Fortunately for us, Winter is coming around much more quickly in Paris this year and sunrise isn’t until around 7:30AM (that extra half hour of sleep during Fashion Week is worth its minutes in diamonds). On the flipside, breaking it to Georgia that she was to brave the crack of dawn chill in various degrees of straplessness and sheer lace in looks more suitable to a steamier week of horse races and Birdcage marquee wars in Melbourne fast approaching, was less exciting. I, myself, had sorely underestimated how cold Paris would be in October, and by this point of suitcase living, had run out of coats to wear.
While this sleepy section of the river up the street from my apartment in the Latin Quarter was no Impressionistic Giverny, you can get enough of a sense of Monet’s Soleil Levant when you squint due East that you can allow yourself to be transported back to some pre-Internet time. Helpfully, the bridge we had initially wanted to shoot on had been transformed into a set for a period drama, complete with stressed out horses, waistcoats and monocles (though the security guards wouldn’t tell us what it was for).
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, who’s going to be down at the carnival in Melbourne this year? I’ll be spending STUVAC down there studying from my hotel room around a photo project I’ve been working on.