Allons, Enfants!

In a terrible rush for all sorts of good reasons, darlings, but I couldn't resist (only slightly belatedly) celebrating le jour de la Bastille with this image of overwhelming fabulosity. Yes indeed, look who jetted in to help the Sarkozis celebrate their special day - none other than Café icon and Cameroonian style sensation, the glorious Mme. Chantal Biya!

I am madly in love with the almost baroccoco composition of this snap, in which La Chantal assumes the position of a beneficent background goddess, bestowing her approval on the curious union of the tiny if powerful President of France and his bride. As always, though, the primary thought on Chantal's mind appears to be how very much more glamourous she is than anyone around - and who can say her nay?

"Stay Very Still..."

I've been remiss, having been meaning to feature this treasurable little moment of international drama ever since dear Plumcake brought it to our attention back around Hallowe'en. Yes, it's the coming together of two of the world's more glamourous power-spouses, and don't they look like they're having fun?

Mme. Sarkozy appears to be hoping that a coping strategy more usually used when confronted with bears will prove effective; she is fighting to stay as calm as possible and likely about to try sidling out of range in the hope that that her formidable neighbour won't notice. The divine Mme. Chantal of Cameroon, by contrast, is (as usual) not impressed. At all. What she's thinking about la Carla's mousy 'do, gray pinstripes, tacky folk-pop singing, and nude photoshoots clearly doesn't bear repeating.

But wouldn't you kill to hear her inner monologue?

Beauties and the Beasts

Well, I feel terribly remiss, and a bit dim. I returned to the office and was busy leafing through back issues of Hello! catching up on some important reporting when I discovered a major story!

I had known that Sheikh Hamad of Qatar, an amiably portly monarch with a distinct resemblance to a shoe polish-dyed S.Z. "Cuddles" Sakall (or is he more John Candy?), had paid a state visit to Paris while we were there...

But I didn't know that he wasn't, as Gulf royals often do, traveling stag! No indeed - he brought along his (principal) wife, the rather divine Sheikha Mozah bint Nasser, the woman who keeps Queen Rania of Jordan awake nights as they vie for recognition as most stunning Arab consort. She's seen here shielding something more than thirty percent of her husband from photographers.

Had I been even halfway paying attention, I would have realized that it made perfect sense for her to come along, if only so she could size up the European competition, in the form of the lovely and multi-talented Mme. Sarkozy.

As indeed she did, while Monsieur cools his (elevator) heels in the background. It rather looks as if they've hit it off.

And, during dinner, while Carla studiously reviews the text of the Sheikh's speech (or her latest lyric), someone does a little sizing up of his own. Doesn't he look just exactly like Pepe LePew here, about to pounce?

All the more reason for the ladies, as dinner ended, to head out of the dining room à deux. "Oh, darling," sighs the Sheikha, "let's dump Shorty and Fatty and grab some of your husband's Champagne, go upstairs, get out of these rags, and try on jewelry. I just know you have Eugenie's and Marie Antoinette's stuff up there..."

Another surprise was that the Qatari couple didn't travel alone; they brought along at least one of the children.

Sadly, it would appear that her father's genes rather outweigh her mother's. Fab Chanel, though, I'll hand her that.

And to think we were just across town while all this was going on. Such a tiny planet, no?