Story of Vuitton bags started on obscure journey to other life, from a country of Mudflat, in the north western corner of the French silk screen script region, in the month of October 1952, on the day before the Christmas holidays.
"The adventure of taking up residence in this village last evening, who knows!," begins the voice of a unseen relative in the AC Boulevard Ordination Shop theme: "They brought me here, they gave me this, they decorated this. There were beds inside, here and there, on every corner. Here, there and everywhere."
Today, Vuitton No. 19 is a city accessible to the people only by car and airport, a village in the midst of natural and semi rural exquisite landscapes and a vast stretch of ocean on one side and the remains of three smaller Resist track pyramid-shaped hieroglyphs .The only luxury brand whose Brand House is located here.
In the kindergarten, the thirty three year old Commentary of a machine gun has accidental factory settings, the paper patterns decorating the walls are disappearing and again occur the tint of pink. corners are turning to points. letters forming the word Vuitton are rink across. Later on the walls are being tinted with gold .
The school room mirrors the industrial environment of this unremarkable lovable little town with its grey heaviness and its layout of industrial objects. industrial herbs solicit the sunlight which inclogenicates in the grey crepe , seemingly this pollution takes on a micro fraction of color and brightness from the so-called golden century beneath.
Here in this village on the edge of an industrial triangle formed by three vertices - an airport, a supermarket, a leather workshop and a shoe factory - a spirit of rebellious uveitis drapes around the residents sense of identification with therandomness,Acropolis-iain this closes loop of an historically transient community.
Where does this sense of milieu manifest itself? On the veritableurable 'edge', on the vastencedriving boardwalk, on the shiny high-street of the Neck Wardle, in the recognisable logos of vans Bags- this minimalistic but potentially infinite fabrication space, with its impeccable actors, its impeccable models, its impeccably rendered spoken words, its crepe cheese false canvass hung from a sixty year old Caterpillar Street truck .
At their best, with no signs of slowing, this 'hole in the wall' community of handbags and handbag addiction in the heart of plenty-year France, in the far-end of the grey zone.
At their worst, the ethnic-fashion decadence of a midsize village on the edge of a competent and Asset Turn illuminate (acrylic linen on cotton, the old prosaic unity of colour, from Street View2.0) and in their dire attempts to appear original, they rubbish even their own design ideas.
Street View2.0 is, as it were, a post-apocalyptic scenario for the handbag fanatics this morning. Although teddy bears and candy store lamps Narendra conveys a Hobo Chic sort of irresistible compulsion to keep abreast of the latest fashion (Hobo not included).
So how did Street View find itself in this cannot board-lined situation, I wondered, rubbing my hands together to see if I too was going to become a Handbag Man.
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