Never Cannes Say Goodbye

Never Cannes Say Goodbye

Never Cannes Say Goodbye The Fashion Jet Set Story & Photography by John-Paul Pietrus      The French Riviera has always retained a sweet spot in the lore of glamour and sophistication, and the City of Cannes has always been the epitome of global chic. Since 1946, the city has hosted the prestigious Cannes Film Festival, the Cannes Lions International Festival of Creativity, and the Cannes Yachting Festival. No matter what time of year it is, people never can say goodbye to the French Riviera.  Set sail with fashion photographer John-Paul Pietrus, as he recalls the mise en scene of his luxurious photo shoot on the iconic Promenade de la Croisette.      It was my first time in Cannes, which is amazing, glamorous and beautiful. It’s everything you think the French Riviera should be. The French Riviera reminds me of a James Bond movie. It has that sort of super 70’s chic feel, with beautiful weather and beautiful light. Our team stayed very close to the waterfront, at the InterContinental Carlton hotel, where they have all the big social parties for the Cannes Film Festival.     We had a model confirmed for the shoot, but she had a problem with her visa. As a replacement, we contacted a Paris based modeling agency, and chose the gorgeous Alimata Fofana, who I love.  I knew it would be more expected to see a white, blonde or brunette, woman in a French Riviera shoot.     For the story, our fashion stylist, Loic Masi, wanted to dress the model in all red, white and blue. Since we were by the...

Venus in La La land: Escape from New York

Header Subheader Words by Amy “Aimstar” Andrieux   Where did I leave off? Last time I found myself writing, I was sitting in the middle of a field on a mountaintop. Steps away from a pool marked by graffiti, writing pages on end. I was here. It was February, or maybe March, a few weeks after I escaped from New York to go anywhere. I simply couldn’t tolerate another blizzard, another depressing hipster linkup, another one of my wackass excuses for not getting out of dodge. The city, my hometown that was every bit a part of me as I was of it was beating me down. I could barely afford my BK apartment without side hustles and under the table dealings. And yet, I was surviving no matter how much money I made. My quality of life from food to people was eating me alive. I was a walking zombie in daylight hours, and I had unearthed a nasty habit of lying to myself to accept the unbearable just to get by. I was lost in my own caravan of dreams, trying to find myself, the meaning of life, to cut through to what’s really real. But I was stuck wandering in a concrete jungle instead… Seeking. Wanting. Yearning… and nothing was enough. I was looking for lovejoy. To be fair, I had many things and experienced so much already, more than what my parents had when they were my age. One could say that I was accomplished, a professional in my field despite the various hiccups (read: breakdowns) I had along the way. When I was on,...

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