How To: Body, And Its Parts

Summer sneaks up on us in many unpleasant ways, including having to share a park with joggers who wear tiny shorts. Even when, at closer inspection, said joggers turn out to be mere children in their early 30s and thus still capable of exposing their lower limbs, emotional distress is unavoidable and immediate. How can it be The Season again? How am I not prepared? Why am I not learning anything, ever?

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May Mild Irritants

Everything is overdue: spring in Brussels, my blogposts. But then nothing interrupts my dolce far niente like the woke brigade performing another not-very-thoroughly-thought-out, yet very public character assassination/cancellation project. So I had to get up for this. In today’s edition: Coco Chanel was a racist. Chanel is racist brand.

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Going Kontinental: Konfekt

I was never a Monocle –person. I wanted to be, but never managed to curate my entire wardrobe to consist only of dark navy and khaki garments. In principle I endorsed each overpriced, minimalistic gadget that are part and parcel of the Monocle -lifestyle, but in practise my penchant for whimsical baubles would eventually mess up the otherwise good effort.

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Pitt Came to Town

Belgium’s hard lockdown means that crossing the country’s borders is basically impossible. Therefore imagine my delight when Brad Pitt flew over to Brussels this Monday to “support his artist friend”. I appreciate creativity whenever I see any, and Pitt’s excuse for a clandestine Easter city-break holds the top spot (it’s a tough contest, though). (Whether I’m Pitt’s artist friend you’ll never know.)

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