Oui, Oui, je vais à Paris!

C’est vrai! Vous pouvez imaginer? Moi! Desmina de Vil, la fille de Cruelle,

vais à Paris!

I celebrated my 24th birthday on some rainy night - quel temps du chien!- in Paris. I was in the Metro when my new iPhone (and heart) got snatched up by some RUDE boy.

Quel Dommage, Paris!

I cursed the city that day, then danced my birth night away, gawking at a drag queen belting “La Vie en Rose” at a club near Le Moulin Rouge in Montmartre. This naive and bête version of Moi may have gagged at the imagination of my return 5 years later as a *Fashion Designer* for Paris Fashion Week March 2025!

“C’est impossible!”

Of course, I was too shy to speak French at the time. And, I was a few years away from being properly introduced to the much crazier, scarier, and hotter version of Moi that is Ms. Desmina de Vil- world renowned clown and *fashion designer*.

I wasn’t planning to go to Paris Fashion Week, but stories usually unfold unexpectedly. Over a year has passed since September 2023, when I debuted the Desmina de Vil Collection with RISE New York Fashion Week. I was much too busy writing my Book, the Tattle Tale, to entertain another Fashion Show. The fashion is in the fable, after all. And the trash.

Gasp!

I received a DM from BVFW (Bovtiqve Fashion Week) about participating in New York Fashion Week February 2025. But New York has already seen Desmina. Pshh! I need a bigger stage.

Enter Paris.

Paris est parfait for an adventure of Desmina de Vil grandeur.

I had to consider the decision thoroughly enough. My participation in the show was not dependent on my talent and brilliance alone. What it really came down to: access to a new credit card! Thank God I worked my hot little ass off and paid the debt from my previous manic episode. Cha-ching- the doorbells ring. “C’est Moi, Desmina!”

“But I am writing a book! I need a plot.” I speak to my reflection after my call with BVFW. The rational face of Moi weighing the risk of dollars is melting in the face of Moi who’s eyes glow with the possibility and presence of power. It’s really a no brainer!

My face cracks into a smile of sick proportions, my eyes crinkle in the breath of a large inhale that breaks into a devious laugh.

I did it!I figured it out! In moments like these, I remember that existence is entirely hilarious. I cracked the code! I snicker. I won!!! I won the game! I’m laughing to myself at myself everywhere and nowhere. LOL! Jokes on You! I’m giggling and gasping for air. I’ll die on all my laughter, joke, wit, and faster and faster I’ll go down the rabbit hole - I can do, will do, will be, whomever and whoever I please. Oh please! God! Forever I’ll be

“Moi? Ms. Desmina? Paris?” I mock Moi in the mirror, “I can be whoever I please! I fooled them. I fooled everyone,” I cackle, “Moi! Oui! Paris! Desmina de Vil!” I dance my way into a reasonable amount of insanity.

I’ll bet on all my laughter.

My waist swings to my hips. My arms reach forward, my fingers grabbing at some invisible window in front of me. I peer behind the curtain into a twisted realm of imagination. Paris! C’est Moi! Desmina de Vil! If I grab far enough, I could catch the sparkles of a dream. I heard if you place a sparkle of a dream on your tongue, magic is a snap away. “Mmm!” tastes like lightning.

“Je suis qui j’imagine,” my smile simmers to a smirk in the mirror.

Alors, oui, oui, je vais à Paris!

Paris, I will knock at your doorstep stuffed with trash, books, flowers, and divinations. If I may, I will share a story of my friends, their spirits flickering and filling their corporeal costumes as they stroll your streets. Then, we will all disco under the strobing starlight until we are immortal.

Comme Toi, Paris.

À Bientôt!

Desmina de Vil