So here I am, on a Sunday evening, in a quiet street (well, supposedly quiet), made up like a stolen car and dressed like a national holiday, all to illustrate an article about a film I absolutely adore: “Cruella”.
It’s simple really – every outfit in the movie is absolutely explosive. So explosive, in fact, that they became wildly complicated to recreate.
I ended up going with a red and black look, which involved kilometers of red and black tulle I managed to pull together thanks to the help of my friend Virginie from Marcel et Jeannette, and a military-style jacket I found in the back of my closet, onto which my 12-year-old daughter and I gleefully threw anything we could get our hands on: chains, brooches, ribbons, epaulettes.
As I said, the street was supposed to be quiet. Don’t ask me why about twenty passersby were walking past, all giving me that “what on Earth is going on?” look – I was not going unnoticed. One person even stood behind my photographer to snap a photo of us with their phone. Honestly, that street has never been so lively.
Then a colleague of mine rode by on a bike, turned around clearly wondering “what the fuck is that?” I mustered up my courage and said hello – and I could tell it took him a good few seconds to realise who I was. Can’t really blame him.
As for makeup (since we all know how I feel about it), I just plastered on whatever I could find: way too much blush, multicoloured glitter, and an eyeshadow rainbow.
So here you have it – Cruella of the 8th arrondissement of Paris. She pulls a lot of faces.
October 31, 2026
