Tag Archives: Donald Trump

J’❤ l’élite métropolitaine

When I lived back across La Manche there were no shortage of London stalwarts who’d apparently suffer allergic reactions if they “went south of the river”. These were people who’d inhabited the Big Smoke for as many as three years, … Continue reading

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MOAB is my tosspot

I remember being surprised by my mother’s response when I asked her how she felt during the Cuban Missile Crisis. “Which missile crisis?” she asked. “I don’t remember any missile crisis.” My mother wasn’t a stupid woman by any stretch … Continue reading

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A new career in a new quartier

A few weeks ago, I went for a teaching job at an institute of higher education situated in the outskirts of Paris with absolutely no anticipation of getting it. Yes, you’ve guessed already, I got the job. I had no … Continue reading

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The shitehaus in the White House

Yesterday Claire and I went to L’esprit de Bauhaus exhibition at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in the Louvre’s west wing. It begins with William Morris and other influences from the 19th century, and concludes with the design influence of … Continue reading

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The Juppé cushion

I often feel like we’ve slipped into an alternative reality and another more legitimate version of myself is somewhere having a great time, and everything is inconspicuously normal. There are plenty of other hypotheses that attempt to explain the surreality … Continue reading

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