Paris is always calling me. A show at Moulin Rouge, a cruise on the Seine, Escargot on the Eiffel Tower, Macarons at Laduree…ooh La La! Turns out the Annual City of Lights, City of Angels Film Festival was the next best thing. This fashion plate slipped on her finest French Stalkings, black Oscar de La Renta skirt with black tulle and hightailed it to the Directors Guild of America for the Opening Gala. Crossing the Atlantic would have been easier than crossing Sunset Boulevard at rush hour, but hey, knowing the Brad Pitt of the French Film World Star Jeramie Renier would be there was motivation enough for me. The festival opened with “My Way”, a musical biography about French Singer Claude Francios. He wrote “Comme d’Habitude” in collaboration with Jacques Revaux and Gilles Thibault in 1968. However it was Sinatra who made the tune legendary towards the end of his career calling it “My Way” using lyrics written by Paul Anka. Cameras flashed and fans went wild for the dashingly handsome Renier. Hey, it’s my duty to check these things out, ok? Holding my sacred place in line for another cocktail my eye wandered to a woman wearing vintage heels. I gave her an enthusiastic nod, a thumbs up, a salute. I love French women and their keen sense of fashion as they walk cobblestone streets wearing 4 inch high platforms or spike heels. No wonder my Louboutin’s never fail me!
Club Culinaire chefs and local restaurants provided hors d’ oeuvre selections with French Flair. Kora Kroep was happy to have me ambush her in the kitchen as she prepared food for 750 guests. One bite of Agnes Jadeau’s Onion Tart made me forget the ride there. I was smitten with Keizo Ishiba’s Spicy Tuna Crispy Salmon Tartar and Josie La Balch’s signature Quiche. Marius Blin of Sofitel Hotel LA served Duck Nicoise while Yven Valentin shared Petits Fours. It was another great Stalker night and as I waved goodbye I wondered why Joan Rivers got paid so much to do these gigs. Ah ha! Now I know, because my Brian Atwood toes were screaming for a pair of house slippers. Let’s just say where there’s a will, there’s a way, and even if I couldn’t get to Paris, I was determined to capture a piece of it in my own backyard. Once I got off the freeway of course. By the way darling, do you mind fetching me another drink? Champagne please, with a cherry on the side and foot massage. au revoir!