Rarely do I find things that truly speak to me. Maybe I’m generic, but I never really fit the bill of a proper sub-culture. Vintage fanatic? Yes, but I’m missing Betty Page bangs. Theatre major? Yes, but I wasn’t onstage. I was backstage wearing black frantically sewing hooks and eyes. Lacking a social moniker, I just settled with being <***“artsy”***©>. It gave me the social mobility to get along with everybody, except for actors.
Now that all my creative ventures revolve around eating, I am in “foodie” territory. And nothing celebrates fooding and all of my other interests like Fricote Magazine, a French quarterly for the curious urban epicurean. Marrying food, cuisine, illustrations, design, photography, fashion, and humor, it’s a bilingual expression of everything I love. And with a steady list of food events and happenings in Paris, I can easily see myself getting involved (AKA I’m open for collaborations!).