Between her Parisian baby daddy, a 6th arrondissement address, and that little film called Marie Antoinette, Sofia Coppola might was well be French, right? That being true, I think it’s OK to indulge in a little ode-de-Coppola during my Paris fashion week coverage.
Last season, the highlight of the week was crossing paths with the APC-clad icon as she strolled her baby Romy down the street. Sofia was wearing black flats. So was I. We’re both brunettes. I’m pretty sure we bonded, silently, over our similarities. At least that’s what I like to tell myself.
Earlier this week I found myself in the same neighborhood (and no, I’m not stalking. I had an appointment there I swear!) and a store window full of engraving examples caught my eye. While American aesthetes are all about their letterpress, the French taste makers adore their engraveurs.
Lo and behold, what do I see but a letterhead for none other than Sofia’s pater familias, Francis Coppola. Immediately I think that the example of the engraveur’s work must have been a gift from Sofia to her father. (What else do you get for the man who has everything? She’s a genius! I think.) Then I remember that her pere has a house around here too, so perhaps he’s purchased them for himself, which takes the cards’ preciousness level down a notch or two.
Then I spot a blank calling card for un autre French style goddess, Charlotte Gainsbourg. I have a theory about why such a well-known figure would need a calling card, but I’ll save that for another reverential post and be a servant to you faithful readers instead. To track down some Coppola-approved stationery, try these two locales:
96 Rue du Bac, 75007 PARIS