The world at my feet

Nobuyoshi Araki is one of the best living photographers. He has published over 350 books and is considered one of the most productive artists around the world. Many of his photos are erotic. He is best known for his pictures of bondage, with young women tied and often suspended and entangled in rope.

Now, a young French artist, Benjamin Deroche, has made a series of photos in honour of the master: Tribute to Araki. He has tried to reproduce with a dead chicken the pictures of bondage, with odd, but also disturbing, effects. In a interview given to Liberation’s blog Zoum Zoum, Deroche says Araki is one of his favourite photographers. Goodness knows what Araki thinks about it.

In parallel with his official site, the French fashion designer (Dior Homme) Hedi Slimane has a photo diary: Hedi Slimane Diary. The stylist is a rock fan, with many connections to British indie scene and these photos incarnate perfectly his rock temperament. The site collects more than 800 untitled and exclusively black-and-white works. It features photos of Slimane’s books about contemporary rock like the famous Stage, reportages on the New York musical scene and portraits of scandalous stars like Pete Doherty, Kate Moss, Amy Winehouse and Courtney Love. In short, it’s the cool, good, old triad: sex, drugs and rock and roll.

For celebrating the fortieth anniversary of May ‘68, the English fashion designer Paul Smith launches a book regrouping forty reproductions of the most representative posters of that mythic event. It’s a limited edition of 68 copies, which are not really cheap, indeed every copy costs £1392. The book comes out in parallel with the first UK exhibition of posters produced by students and workers in Paris during the risings of May 1968. You can see these iconographies at The Hayaward Project Space in London throughout the current and unmythic May.

You can also buy some “revolutionary” May ‘68 gadget in Paul Smith boutiques, like candles, key cases, pocket notebooks, et cetera. According to me, this is the negation of the spirit of a season that, for better or worse, changed the world. But this is the spirit of ours times, where often the rebels eat caviar and drink champagne.

APRIL77 is a very cool French brand of clothing. After associating with Gibson guitars, now it renders homage to one of the best independent labels, Domino Records.

Domino Records is in my heart because I love the music that it churns out. I like the Arctic Monkeys, the Kills, the Pavement..I am waiting with trepidation Franz Ferdinand’s new record. Well, after this musical soliloquy, I go back to the partnership between APRIL77 and Domino that has produced a limited edition box set containing a deluxe vinyl record with a compilation of the very best from Domino and April77’s polo shirt named “Manchester”, in honour of one of the most prolific cities in the British musical scene. There are only 440 copies, but you can win one in an internet competition at VoxPop (in French). You must be fast, you have until tomorrow at midnight.

I’m not a fashion addict nor a fan who collects stars “relics”, my teen room didn’t even see one poster, but I woo fortune. Tomorrow, a fashion addict or a collector could cough up a pot of money for my box set. I would be a rock star, but an accountant lives in me.

Photo by BrittneyBush

There is Antoine, 47 years old, that offers (only to girls) “comfort” and a “nice room” in a flat: no rent, no deposit, but payments in kind. His co-tenant must only wander round the flat naked and give herself regularly. Then there is Laurent, 32 years old, that shares his roomy flat in the XV arrondissement in exchange for “not classic sexual relationships”.

According to the French daily newspaper Libération, in Paris there is a boom of ads that demand sex for a roof. The rents in the French metropolis are more and more expensive, and some smarty-pants takes advantage of the situation. Websites like Missive, Vivastreet and Kijiji are real mines of these ads. Usually the word “sex” is not mentioned and is disguised under formulas like “for girl”, “for supply of services” and is not specified the amount of the rent. I presume there are ads “for boy” too. I think who accepts such conditions isn’t a victim, it’s an exchange between two consenting adults. But at this point it’s better to opt for the classic prostitution, at least one is relaxed at home. I am imagining my landlord, naked, that whispers smuts in my ear..I prefer to sleep under a roof of stars for life.

Do you remember the iconoclastic, lecher, over zonked Fritz the Cat, the comic character created by Robert Crumb? Well, there is another cat named Fritz that is going to dwarf the predecessor’s fame. In Germany it’s a little celebrity and the poor bear Klut begins to shudder. But what does this cat do? Fritz is a reporter and goes around with a digital camera, programmed for automatic shots, hung to the neck. The mistress puts the photos in this site that, to be blunt, is quite ugly and the mainstream media create a case. The world in the eyes of a cat: what a big idea! Nowadays any boob can become a case, however these photos are better than mine, I’m a dog as photographer. An interesting experiment would be to stuff Fritz with beer, Viagra and marijuana. The world in the eyes of an iconoclastic, lecher, over- zonked cat: that’s a big idea!

In the morning she’s an undergraduate who follows the lectures, at night she turns into a call girl who sells her body for paying studies. She’s Laura D., authoress of the autobiographical novel “Mes Chères Études” (My expensive studies), the new French literary case. The girl tells her experience, today concluded, with an abundance of more scabrous details. She found her clients on the web, the first payed her 250 € only for seeing . I stop here, I wouldn’t induce some damsel to do likewise. This story reminds me of Melissa P., an Italian Lolita who sold a pile of copies of her “One Hundred Strokes of the Brush Before Bed”, a very mediocre book, which owes its success to the alleged authenticity of the plot. In this case too, the rather trite topic of a girl’s double life arouses more interest with the “reality” label. Well, trust me, I’m a worldly person: Laura D. is an hairy fifty-year-old man with a fine pot-belly. Now, who is still ready to cough up 250 € only for seeing?