An intense day


Spring is here, and with it, the season of press presentations and events in Madrid begins. Thursday is the preferred day for all agencies, and last week there were so many events on the same day that it reminded me it's time to rescue my folding bike from the garage.

In the morning I attended the reopening of "El Brocante," which, after its success during the Christmas season, has been under renovation for a few months and is now reopening with renewed vigor. As beautiful as before, or even more so, it features furniture from Federica&Co, clothing from Sister Jane, headpieces from Mimoki, and countless other beautiful things that make this place a must-visit in the capital, despite being less than six months old.


At noon, I was at Chanel, once again enjoying the presentation of the new winter collection, that spectacular one we saw walk last month through a kind of gloomy forest resulting from a volcanic eruption, a mixture of feminine and masculine, dark and elegant. It's probably one of the Chanel collections I've liked the most lately, so you'll understand why we'll dedicate an exclusive post to it in a few days.


In the evening, I had the honor of attending the event organized by Carrera y Carrera at the Teatro Real. Last year, the Spanish jewelry firm created the "La maja de los Goya" award, which recognizes the best-dressed actress at the Goya Awards gala with a unique piece of jewelry valued at €25,000. I understand that the award must be an extra motivation for our actresses to excel on the red carpet. I can't imagine a better deal than dressing fabulously in a borrowed gown and then being rewarded for it. Last year's winner was Goya Toledo, and this year it was Lidia Bosch.

Boris Izaguirre and Laura Sánchez hosted the award ceremony.




Late at night, at the party, the Consort and I experienced one of those rare (due to their scarcity) but magical moments when you're introduced to complete strangers in the middle of a party, and a four-way conversation sparks that doesn't end until you're swept out of the venue, making you wish you could be new friends with them. As children, we made friends in the park by flaunting the reddest car or the pinkest jump rope, but as adults, superficial conversations are increasingly common, and with them, disappointments. That's why meeting Josephine and Hugo last Thursday was a stroke of luck we couldn't let pass by. She's French, he's Italian, they live in Madrid, he's an advertiser, she's a photographer. They are both incredible, but for now, I can only introduce you to Josephine through her work as a photographer covering Paris Haute Couture for Telva magazine; her photos are simply wonderful, and you can take them home thanks to her online store.






Aside from fashion and her family, Josephine has another passion for which she is capable of doing anything: bullfighting. José María Manzanares has been photographed by geniuses like Peter Lindbergh or Bruce Weber, but only a brilliant Frenchwoman like Josephine has joined the bullfighter's cuadrilla, traveling with them as one of their own for months. Crossing the country from end to end by car, sleeping in gas stations, sharing wine and sorrows has allowed her to publish the book "Tolls, on the road with José María Manzanares," where we can glimpse the reality of this profession from the most artistic perspective.
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The bullfighter talking to his mother

Josephine commented to me that while in Spain we associate bullfighting followers with a more conservative mentality, in France, on the contrary, it is typical of bohemians and people with a liberal mindset. Curious. Here, fortunately, I have the opportunity to discuss the contradictions that the world of bullfighting generates for me with my friend David, a great expert who, thanks to his blog "All toros," has managed to become one of the most followed and respected bullfighting critics. Congratulations to David for his hard work finally being recognized.

Happy week to all, those on vacation and those longing for it,
The Countess who sees the month of April slip away in the blink of an eye.

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