For the past year, I’ve been receiving a diversity of rather interesting direct messages on Instagram.
A few examples:
Question (from many young guys):
“Are you a model?”
Of course, it seems obvious, seeing as I’m a 41 and 5ft3 (when I stand up very straight). Next time, please don’t hesitate to read my bio, which clearly states “lawyer”.
“Hey, how are you? ”
I’m quite well, thank you. I find your way of starting this conversation liberating and admire the underlying originality in your message.
No question, just a flattering picture of family jewels (a dick pic for the initiated crowd).
Thank you. I don’t know in what world you live in for you to think that you can send pictures of your penis to women that you do not know. Furthermore, I’m sorry to tell you that you in no way match the required size range around here.
“I love your long gloves, can you send me pictures of you with your long gloves, you’re so beautiful with your long gloves?”
(Repeatedly over the course of four very long hours).
No. And I’m going to block you if you continue.
Go to Agnelle’s, 19 rue Duphot, 75001 Paris.
Buy yourself some gloves, wear the gloves, take selfies with the loves, do whatever you want with your gloves but leave my gloves alone, thanks.
We’ve all received strange messages on social media, and I think it’s better to ignore them or else to laugh and answer with humour and firmness.
However, I can’t deny that I’ve met (virtually or really) a few wonderful people thanks to Instagram.
Young creators who love their work and whom you can listen to for hours on as they talk about their art.
People who visit Paris and that I enjoy taking to typically Parisian evenings out.
Pure bred Parisians who love this city as much as I do.
People with lots of humour.
“I’m in custody, I would need a lawyer now. By the way, the police officers love your pictures.”
Giorgio Armani pants – Eric Bompard top – Marni coat – JCrew flat shoes – Prada handbag – Cartier watch