Story of a Girl

3.31.2013

UD | This Concerns Brigitte Bardot and Sunbathing

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UD - Hotels
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March 31, 2013
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Tropez Artist
A Saint-Tropez Gem Gets a Face-Lift
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UD - Hôtel de Paris
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VITALS
Hôtel de Paris
1 Traverse de la Gendarmerie
83990 Saint-Tropez France
+33 (0) 4 83 09 6000
official website
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Imagine it’s 1963. You’re in Saint-Tropez.

Look to your left: there’s Brigitte Bardot, looking radiant.

Look to your right: there’s a mime. So... moving on.

Look up: there’s... nothing.

Not even a swimming pool suspended above your head.

Well, just wait 50 years.

Because only now do you see the fully realized glory of Hôtel de Paris, an upgraded version of the old headquarters of the Saint-Tropezian elite, now open.

Here’s the story: back in the ’60s (and every other fashionable decade), this three-story, 52-room hotel was a haven for sun-worshipping celebrities and the other good-looking people who loved them... until it closed in the ’90s. But now it’s back to its old ways: Brigitte’s here (in photographs, anyway), the Mediterranean colors on the walls have been restored, and you’ll still feel like Serge Gainsbourg on holiday as you walk in.

Mosey into the lobby. There’s that new pool, suspended above, doubling as a skylight. Maybe check it out. You’ll find caviar and sushi and some sunbathing friends-to-be up there. Or don’t. Maybe check out the restaurant. The guy supplying nourishment has three Michelin stars. Makes a great duck à l’orange. (And probably better cheese fries.)

Oh, and unlike most other hotels here, it’ll even be open during winter months. Which is great if you want to avoid tourists.

Or the sun.
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3.29.2013

UD | Opening Day Is Near. Prepare with These.

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_ March 29, 2013 _
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_ Glove Actually
_ Baseball Gloves from a Leather God
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UD - Leather Head Baseball Gloves Babe Ruth. Abner Doubleday. Bull Durham. Steve Bartman. Pine tar. Ty Cobb. Eddie Gaedel. Dugouts. Ballpark nachos. Big League Chew. Frank Thomas’ Big Hurt Baseball. Joe DiMaggio. The bloody sock. Bill Buckner.

Oh, and Wendy Peffercorn.

If you’re not sufficiently excited for opening day yet... this should do the trick:

Step up to the plate for Leather Head Baseball Gloves, a handsome foursome of vintage-style gloves made with an obsessive amount of love, precision and high-quality leather, available for preorder now.

These are just clean, pure-hearted gloves. Ozzie Smith in glove form. You might say they resemble that plastic mitt from your first catch. You might. But then you’d touch it and realize that statement was borderline sacrilegious.

See, you’ve got the Murderers’ Row of glove-making behind these. The chief designer: an expert leatherworker from baseball’s holy land of Cooperstown. The logo artist: a die-hard baseball fan (who’s also a renowned typographer). The testers: a bunch of ex-MLB pros. And the leather—sweet baby Ruth, the leather: it’s thick enough to handle munitions-grade plutonium, yet supple enough for one-hoppers from Prince Fielder. (Or, you know, a rival softball team.)

So here’s what you do. Go to their website. Choose your glove—an outfielder’s, an infielder’s or a catcher’s mitt. Four weeks later, you’ll get a package smelling of fine leather and seventh-inning stretches. You’ll remove the contents. You’ll head for the yard. And then...

Hey, no worries. These make excellent desk candy, too.
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Leather Head Baseball Gloves, available for preorder now
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