Inspired By A Human: Paul Léautaud

The other day I was reading an article on Into The Gloss where the interviewee mentioned something about Karl Lagerfeld, possibly one of the coolest, most inspiring and outrageously brilliant people to be walking this earth; they said that one year his Chanel collection was inspired by Paul Léautaud, the French writer. At first when I read this I was like, "Who dis chick guy?" but then I clicked the hyperlink and fell in love.

I've never studied French literature (unless you consider Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris "French literature"), but my mom did in college, so I'm sure she knows who this wonderful little man is. In Emily's interview with Ines de la Fressange, Ines said that one day Karl brought in some pictures and was like, "He's so chic," and voilà, a collection was born. That is the magic of Macy's Chanel.

I'm not one of those creepy girls who has old man fetishes, but I do think some of them are quite adorable, Léautaud being among them. He perfectly embodies the Parisian literary male look, which is exactly how I want to look most of the time. Sucks that he's dead, I totally could've borrowed a few things from his closet.

Sadly, this man is an oldie, so there were not many images to be found of him on the internet that were not two pixels by two pixels in area. I had to resize some of the following photographs so that's why they're a little fuzzy. It might also be because they're film from like the 1800's, but whatever.

Images via google.com.

Oh my God, please be my friend/husband/grandfather. But not all three at once. 

I call this one, "The Thinker." 

Léautaud was the original eHarmony cat lady.

Rocking the exaggerated collar before it was cool. 

Would ya look at that? He's actually writing something on a piece of parchment, or some other primitive material.

His happiness makes him huggable, his hat makes him a freaking gangster. 

You do not sass Paul Léautaud, for he will sass you right back.

Lo and behold, another feline friend! Chances are his ratio of feline friends to female friends is a bit abnormal.

If you're not in love with him, you're probably not human. (Disclaimer: you probably are human, I have no way of knowing otherwise.)

I apologize for the lack of depth in my posts lately, it's been one of the more stressful weeks I've had in a while. I was living out of a suitcase at other peoples' houses all week and I just got home yesterday, only to be greeted by two tests tomorrow and approximately zero drive to study for either of them. That's why I'm here, writing about dead French authors. Regardless, I hope to be back to some better posting soon, just bear with me. I've got oodles and noodles of things lined up for us. Caboodles and shnoodles, if you will.

Bon soir, mes chéris!

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