Coquette spotting

It's a nice Saturday and Purebred and I are just leaving Le Bon Marché, trendy and Bobo and with-it as we are. We cross the street towards the Metro station deep in conversation, when Purebred interrupts me mid-sentence, his gaze transfixed by something or someone in front of him.

"Isn't that... could that be...." he stutters, but by this time the subject of his fascination had already passed us by and he turns around violently,still transfixed. I reluctantly crane my neck to follow his gaze - nothing I hate more than being interrupted - only to be greeted by the sight of a girl, pug on leash in tow, strolling towards Le Bon Marché and sporting the most formidable - yet strangely familiar - red curls I have ever laid eyes on. In a rush of excitement realisation strikes and we breathe a drawn out awestruck "COQUETTE!" in unison in pretty much the same breathless tone we would have employed to say "J Lo!" had Mrs. Anthony just passed us by, cadaver instead of pug in tow. THAT ladies and gentleman was my very first blogger celebrity sighting and let me tell you, running into J to the Lo would have had nothing - nada, niente, niet! - on this.

What the poor girl would have thought had she been aware of the stir she'd caused while happily going about her business, oblivious to the two pathetic bloggerspotters behind her, is a different matter altogether. And probably one I'd prefer not to delve too deeply into either.