Monday, 18 February 2008

Le Mullet (French for 'Mullet')

I wanted to send you guys the latest report from France before someone on VH1 News tells you first: mullets are back! And they’re all over France. That’s right… on the hot streets of Limoges, fashion (or “mode”) capital of Western Europe, the French teens are depleting the La Pharmacies of hair gel and hair spray to make their mullets shine!

This look is so hot that a Google search for: “french teen style”, “french mullet”, and “french teens” yielded nothing that resembled what I saw on the streets last weekend on the heads of the local cow-farmers’ kids. I didn’t have my camera, so I couldn’t subtly take close-ups of the French kids’ heads as they walked by me. Instead, you will have to take a look at the drawing I did today. (See above illustration.)

Basically, the mullet begins with a little poof of faux-bangs in the front. Take about five little segments of your hair from the base of your hairline and use your gel-coated fingers to smooth out five little strips of hair to go down towards your eyebrows. Preferably in points. The rest of your bangs will be combed back off your face onto the top of your head where they will join the rest of your hair in a distorted symphony of seemingly random peaks and crests. Don’t be fooled, though! There’s no lack of design in the way in which these tufts are folded and overlayed.

The key to the mullet look, as all good Americans should know from their trips to the local car shows and the Brooklyn-bound L-train - is the longer hair in the back of the head. This segment should also be highly gelled and should not move when the wind blows or when you turn your head to look at something – like the approach of your mom with her cigarette lighter to light the fourth-cigarette of your typical 14-year-old samedi afternoon on the town, or the slowly approaching lips of your best friend Jean-Fran├žois-Luc-Pascal to non-gay-kiss you on the cheek.

Saturday, 16 February 2008

They Eat the Nasty in France…

You might be wondering why I haven’t written for a while…. Well, I was in the United States. Everyone there is American. There’s really nothing to write about… People drive on the right side of the road, eat normal food, call fries fries and chips chips, tell Yo Mamma jokes from time to time. Really there’s nothing to report.

But I’m back in France. And boy do I have stuff to report about these people over here!

On Saturday, I took a day off from my stressful life of daily meditation practice and french-press coffee to venture to town. A few friends and I and went to the weekly market in the neighboring metropolis of St. Junien. There, you can buy stink-ass cheese, meat, baguettes, or stink-ass cheese. I also saw a booth where someone was selling large polyester blankets with pictures of horses and kittens on them.

Did you know that it’s perfectly acceptable, at your meat-selling stall in a local market, to sell horse meat? That’s right – your search for lean, dark, raw horse meat is over. Just come to Limosin and you’ll find what you’re looking for.

Wikipedia says: “Horse meat is the culinary name for meat cut from a horse. It is slightly sweet, tender, low in fat, and high in protein.[1] Like beef and pork, it is a taboo food in some religions and cultures. The name for eating horse meat is hippophagy.”

I love the Frankenstein way Wikipedia grafts its paragraphs together. I also really love that first sentence...