daily life paris : my friend fiona

Fiona is a burlesque dancer and one of Seattle’s preeminent fashion and model photographers. She and I fortuitously crossed paths 3 or 4 years ago when I coordinated an interview and photo shoot with her for my business Craft & Culture. I didn’t meet her myself for the occasion but had developed some kind of talent and woman crush on her and wanted to capture a bit of her magic from afar. She came to a magazine opening I was hosting shortly after, still in her stage makeup from the night of dancing and flanked with fur and a pretty boy. I fell in love on the spot in that way where you get bright-eyed and just hope you will know each other. I think she liked me, too. We worked together collaboratively for a while but more importantly┬áhad many a candlelit dinner with oysters and pretty cocktails at dark little restaurants around Seattle where we crafted future dreams and talked about the magic and mystery of where we were in our lives. We made pacts to live our twenties as both women and children, the younger more reckless and instinctual forms of ourselves.

She has visited me in Paris three times since I’ve moved here, her drop ins marking huge, transitional chapters each time. When she is in this city, I feel more alive and more myself. Fiona always seems to show up just when I need her and always, always says, “You got this, girl.”

Photos from one of our staple shopping excursions, the naughty and bizarre sex shops of Pigalle. Other favorites include discount pharmaceutical beauty supplies in the 6eme and showgirl jewelry off Republique.

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