As usual, NYC seems to have sprinted right passed Spring into the sticky hot days of Summer (or as I like to call it: “The 4 Months I Don’t Try at Life Because Why Bother”). I’m not entirely sure why I don’t migrate to the North Pole – the heat is not my friend. I sweat from places that don’t have the physiological ability to produce water. My upper lip is a Slip ‘N Slide by the time I get to work. My hair resembles a Brillo Pad (after several uses) in the humidity, and my skin acquires a new archipelago of freckles every day (some of which give Gorbachev’s port-wine birthmark a run for its money).
But whether I like it or not, it will officially be Summer next Friday – a day which I will likely spend in mourning in an air-conditioned movie theater under a shroud of black lace, while most New Yorkers will be celebrating the heat (masochists) by heading to the few swimming pools in the city or by going to the “bitch” (beach), as my thick-accented Albanian friend calls it.
Do you remember the scene in “Life of Pi” where we learned about the young boy’s namesake – Piscine Molitor? Well, I just learned from my favorite British-expat-turned-Parisian-blogger that the Piscine (French for “pool”) Molitor was an actual, beautiful art deco pool in Paris constructed in the 1920s and where – in 1946 – the first bikini was debuted by a nude dancer (quel scandale!). The historical landmark is now being rehabilitated after several decades of abandonment and several more layers of graffiti.
From the movie:
From real life:
And how about these lucky theater patrons who got to see the movie from boats floating in another Parisian pool designed by the same architect: