October 2024

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Do you often recall having great, positive dreams? This experience shatters that rare, dreamlike serenity. At precisely 8 AM, being in deep sleep a sudden, loud knock jolted me awake in my hotel room. Fear surged through me—I froze before snapping upright. Given the state of things today, it's hard not to adopt a pessimistic view. Nowhere truly feels safe. More people became violent without any visible psychiatric disorders. An example is this scientific fact. The average person may ingest around 5 grams of microplastics per week — the equivalent of a credit card's weight — through food, water, and air. Polymer microplastics are in a small percentage of human blood and induce the impingement of a psychological force affecting aggressive behavior. 

Again, a hard knock on the door. Still shaken, I reached into my purse for a sleek Boker Warrior switchblade. In America, some women conceal a small gun in their Prada’s. In Europe, it's a switchblade. The blade flicked open faster than a Ferrari's door. Gripping the knife in my right hand, I cautiously approached the door, peered through the viewfinder—and saw no one.

I called out, asking who was there, but got no response. Still on edge, I moved to the right of the door frame, switched the knife to my left hand, and swiftly opened the door. Laying there was a large, custom-made Burgalio envelope. I knew exactly what was inside.

Grabbing the envelope, I noticed the house phone flashing. I glanced at my watch—I should’ve been ready by now. Claudio, the charming Italian artist, was likely waiting downstairs. I called the concierge, requesting Viennese coffee to be served for him, knowing Claudio had an art show opening in Vienna this spring at Galerie Krinzinger. The show, titled with a regretful tease, "When You Hike in the Shadow of Love, Your Romance Disappears."©

I told myself, "Now, girl, time yourself." The best way to handle being late for an exciting interview. I jumped into the shower—one minute under warm water. Dried off with a soft Casaluna towel, including my short hair. A quick comb, then ran my fingers through it with Pete & Pedro emulsion. Putting on makeup in two minutes was a skill I picked up from Jacques, the renowned makeup artist for Miu-Miu fashion shows. I wore black silk wide-cuffed shorts, a crisp, starched white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and added cheetah print suspenders from S.F Suspender Factory. White socks, Brunello Cuccinelli tennis shoes, my vintage orange triangle purse, and Temu’s bold orange wide-frame sunglasses completed the look. I slung a tape recorder over my shoulder. Fourteen minutes later, I headed down to the lobby to meet Claudio. In the elevator, my thoughts were slightly perplexed.

Musing about how his girlfriend could leave him for an auto dealer from Madrid. Claudio sat in a lounge chair with a view of Friedrichstrase. He greeted me with a firm yet gentle squeeze, whispering, "Buongiorno, Bellissima," and lightly blowing into my ear. It was undeniably erotic, especially since I knew his girlfriend, Amanda, had recently left him. Then, he surprised me: “Juliette, I want you to be my PR person.

I laughed. Absolutely Not. “I don’t want to be tied to love or agent business at any time. But I have a captivating location for our interview—Café Frederick’s at Bellevue Strasse 1, Berlin. It’s about a half-hour walk. Are you okay with being photographed or filmed?” “Yes, why do you ask?” “Every third month, Frederick’s hosts a private soirée brunch to generate media buzz. They select top climbers to feature in the papers, and this week, my friend Jonathan from Los Angeles will create a commercial for Frederick’s.”

He knows how to make the magnetic essence of lifestyle truly alluring—something you want to be part of. Entering Frederick’s, the chic social spot for Berliners, I found it elegant but not overdone. Around twenty tables filled part of the space, some featuring striking red and black Le Corbusier LC2 leather chairs. Half were occupied by media-savvy business types, while a table of six buzzed with college students, likely from art school. Two students wore chic, crumpled canvas hats in different colors. Nearby, designers sat comfortably with their fashion muses wearing slaying vogue. A pink-clad clown actor, an athletic woman, circled the room, stopping at each table to create simple magic. “This is the menu we’ll enjoy at Frederick’s.”

I ordered a variation on Eggs Benedict, my thoughts drifting to Molly, now at my mom’s house in Prague. She always licks the remnants off my plate as if savoring her last supper. I adopted Molly, a shepherd-Husky mix, after her traumatic past as a bomb-sniffing dog in Afghanistan. You can still feel a piece of shrapnel lodged in her skull, a silent reminder of her bravery.

The German Eggs Benedict replaced the English muffin with a soft pretzel, subtly infused with lemon honey. It was elegantly fanned with warm, thin slices of Westphalian ham, generously interlined with a rich Hollandaise sauce, and accompanied by a few boiled potatoes baked with Gruyère cheese. Claudio, on the other hand, opted for an omelet whimsically titled "Walk in the Bavarian Forest." with baked, crushed roasted, chestnuts, sauteed wild mushrooms, and steamed cranberries on the bed of a warm baby red cabbage compote sauteed in goose fat. So, so good he said, - delicious. I drank German Dallmayr Coffee, Claudio had the same, but with Kirschwasser and whipped cream appetized with Gerolsteiner mineral water.