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About Paris

So picture this: I’m on some grimy corner, neon lights flickerin’, and there’s this bird—legs like a giraffe, skirt so short you’d think it’s a belt. I’m like, “Blimey, you’re a walkin’ health hazard!” She’d probably clock me one, but I’d deserve it. Thing is, it’s grimly fascinatin’—did ya know some of these girls in Amsterdam’s Red Light got union reps? Yeah, proper workers’ rights for shaggin’! Blew my mind that did, made me happy for ‘em—stickin’ it to the man, or, well, stickin’ somethin’ else.

Courcelles-lès-Lens

Honestly, this place is no hoity-toity big city – it's a laid-back labyrinth. I love every misspelling it makes on street signs (yup, I've noticed some little typos – sorry not sorry!). Sometimes i see my reflection in a puddle on Rue de la Liberté. It just hits me, like, "Gras, c'est la vie!"

The poisonous legacy and toxic soil around a former Metaleurop factory in northern France