Title says it all! I entered my name and got my invitation, but thought I wasn't going to be able to go to this signing hosted by H&M when I found out that you had to be there at 8am. I mean, on my usual time schedule that's in the middle of convincing the kids to put their own socks on and running after the school bus for me. Luckily I have two of the nicest bosses in the world who juggled things around so that, come 7.13am, I was at the train station waiting to get in to Paris.
There wasn't long to wait, which was lucky seeing as it was still freezing at that time in the morning. Myself and a line of moody Parisians filed inside, up the escalators and towards a table where he was sitting. I even got him to sign the Oban Times! Plus a postcard of him looking moody and topless that the staff handed us all while we were waiting.
Parisians in the queue in their standard neutral colour range. Honestly this place is like living in a black and white movie.
Possibly laughing at how tattered my copy of the Oban Times is now.
Pretty good haul for the morning! For some reason we got given free pairs of boxers as well. After all that excitement and overexposure to photos of torsos it was back to looking after the latest chickenpox monster. But not before calling my best friend to brag.
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