Today we study another page of our favorite condescending Parisian magazine, Réalités. Just saying it makes me feel pretentious. Réalités. Zee reality of ziss Frenchman sans shirt makes me gag. But nice Studebaker!
I like how they advertise that the Dyna Panhard (incidentally, the name of an exotic dancer at Austin’s Yellow Rose, a strip club which serves free steak/shrimp buffet on Fridays–that’s today!) will drive 80 mph and then show an image of it in a park. Do Parisians drive cars on
sidewalks promenades? I am not familiar with these customs. That’s even more arrogant than American cyclists riding 25 mph in lanes made for cars driving 65 mph.
And how would you fit six passengers in that? Is it Sunday morning coming down for Simone? Is she lost, doing the drive of shame back to her appartement? Even in a car the size of a Ford Festiva, driving off-road with children and prams nearby seems unsafe. She could go barreling out of control and hurtle toward the pond. Girl, please! Oh, look–that’s what her license plate says. 1954, please!