This email is being written from the new Patine Studio, one week before the opening of our pop-up shop in the Marais. Sometimes sand falls from a notebook, but the pencils are sharpened—a little taste of back-to-school season.

Pre-back-to-school season rather than pre-collections :)

This is my little thriller moment: I love coming home in mid-August. The office feels like a theater before the audience arrives. Maybe it's partly because everything isn't quite ready yet. Yes, I'm one of those people who overload themselves with work, "nothing more than a glass!" I'm nervous, I have butterflies in my stomach, I'm eager for the projects of the last few months to come to fruition. But I don't actually have time to be worried; there are still boards to paint for our move to the Marais, and a million other little things to organize. I'm wearing flip-flops, and every morning I put on the future coat, to convince myself that it's true, it really will finally be released soon. I wear my first Willie T-shirts, a little nostalgic, the ones from 2017, with a prototype skirt that will be released at Christmas. I'm drinking iced lattes, but I've already received my 6-year-old daughter's Christmas list ("a dog"). I'm experiencing temperature shock and am an anachronism. It's the late August transition, the end of summer, and the beginning of the Patine sequel. I'm lucky.
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To dare

Something funny happened to me during the holidays: I ran into the real Bertrand Goncal, the very same one whose videos we all learn by heart. Like a good, if slightly overbearing, fan, I went up to him to express my admiration and begged him never to stop posting sketches on Instagram, even when he becomes more famous than Robert De Niro, which, given his talent, is bound to happen. He promised, and at the same time, my request was terribly childish, like needing an unchanging bedtime ritual (and no, I don't fall asleep watching videos on my phone, or I would have already exploded; that was just the analogy).

Right now we're daring to make many changes at Patine, because we're not going to change fashion if we don't shake up our own habits!
Leaving Patine Studio in the 10th arrondissement was a difficult decision, yet it ensures our financial stability in a, shall we say, volatile market. Fashion is a living thing, even "sustainable" fashion. The website is evolving, the brand's identity is becoming more defined, and new key pieces will be appearing in the wardrobe, outside the mainstream and beyond current trends.
Ultimately, what never changes is why we exist, our values, and our rules of the game. And the pleasure, always! The joy of collaborating with talented artists and craftspeople, the thrill of a new idea, the butterflies when trying on the first prototype, the emotion of the photoshoot, your loving messages when the garment becomes part of your life.
- "Do you want to take Patine as your official wardrobe supplier?"
- "Yes !"

(Goodbye

During the holidays I read Pot-Bouille, which precedes Au Bonheur des Dames in the Rougon-Macquart series. Then I read Pierre et Jean by Maupassant. I loved both, but I didn't manage to let the authors know by boldly tagging them in my story; it seems they don't have an Instagram account.
Next, I read Laure Murat's essay, *All Eras Are Disgusting*, which brilliantly proposes a way out, a path of transcendence between cancel culture and wake-up calls. This came after listening to the author on the decidedly brilliant radio program *Under the Sun of Plato* on France Inter, an episode you can listen to again here. I also recommend reading in this order.
To bring things back down to earth, I also binged the latest season of "And Just Like That." To quote the author, "She was not alone—she was on her own." The two outfits shown below, taken from the episodes, reminded me of our trench coat and the upcoming cardigan, currently being knitted in Italy and due out in October. As a sort of decompression chamber after the last episode, I watched a YouTube documentary about the series' sets, which led me to another documentary by Loïc Prigent about JW Anderson's work for Dior.
Finally, I've rediscovered my Brenda jeans—blatant product placement, I know—but there's always a rediscovery of the feel of denim against the skin after a summer spent with bare legs in shorts and under dresses. Like natural wine, I love these reunions in a temperate climate, preferably still barefoot in flip-flops and a tank top, with a bit of sand still at the bottom of my tote bag. All our Brenda jeans will be back on the website this Saturday, as you've probably guessed.