Continuing our exploration of the streets of Paris, the capital of perfumes, perfume-wearers, but also of an urban mythology of perfumes, here's a stretch of Parisian street on which meretrician workers operate...
You almost do not see them, but then a flutter in the shadows of an awning signals a presence. Then again, the gray light of the capital city hits on barely exposed, shiny and light surfaces. She looks like a symbol.
The silhouette of the prostitute in fur coat, oxygenated blonde hair and patent leather emerges from the dark like a sign of the undecipherable desires of men on which a temporary, familar form has been affixed.
They say that prostitution is the oldest profession in the world. What you experience as a street photographer in the middle of a polished city is a sudden sense of archaism, reinforced by the vision of a fur coat. It is a reminder of the primitive substratum of city lives.
You could also read The Love Merchant // La marchande d'amour