Afternoon Style Mongers. Hope to say more later but trying to grind out copy bout shearlings in 34degree heat. Even the lizards have applied for factor 50. I'm alright with that. In very lovely place and wouldn't dream to complain (click). Its super luxe in this gaff, and admit that starts to do my head in. Julie (sister), this is the place we're in. The pace of Luxe is so, so slow. Places like this think luxury is re-coiling a very tightly coiled hairdryer cord every time you leave the hotel. They are mistaken. Still, it is lovely here. They're not mad keen on my working  on site though. Guess am not consuming at the preferred level while avec keyboard. I am currently sat under the middle canopy on the level overlooking the pool, see below. They didn't want me to have it, as they said it was for guests who are coming who want to enjoy the view. The only shade is at these tables and I need to write sitting up. Should I sit in my room? No one else is here yet, all the tables are free yet they want to keep the tables for 'guests who want to enjoy view'.  Who and what do they think I am? Luxury-Vexed is the answer.  Cr_1

 Hotel Crillion le knave?

They mean they're waiting for the bigger spenders I think. However, not allowing them  to be treating man like some knave just cos I'm not old/capacious/sloth-like, like most of the other blokes here. Cha luxe-vendor! Step from me, really slowly, yeah? Regardless, super-glad have got my Panama on to smoulder under.


 Stubbs family float stance.

My Panama, I must note, got slightly mauled at security in terminal 3, much to the amusement of my companion. It managed to go thru the x-ray scanning machine on its own/out of the tray, then having got slightly distressed by the lead curtains, its brim then got wedged in the first roller, tipping it upright, only to be crushed by the following tray. It took damage, fracturing the body slightly. I'm taking it in my stride, but Heathrow will be hearing from my people. Know what I mean? I've got the lane number noted down, the lot. Till then, am this matter keeping  under my hat, as it were.


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Meanwhile, out in elsewhere in Provence, seen some good stuff, like an impromptu scooter rally that would like to share. Looked wicked. I will later on, I hope. For now, gonna tap out some lyrics, plotted in my vintage Sergio Rossi knot loafers and my new Haider Ackerman jacquard overshirt- totes glam. Gonna relax into a metaphorical sheering, and rise above the luxe-prejudice. Fuck you, coq-monsieur. 


 Cool, not luxe.

Stubbs out.


Bliss: Keep it tight, keep it luxe.