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Nicolas Sarkozy le président Bling-Bling

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  • Nicolas Sarkozy le président Bling-Bling

    La journaliste du Dailymail Amanda Platell a sorti sa plus belle plume pour "descendre" Nicolas Sarkozy, alias le Président Bling-Bling!


    Sarkozy: A man desperate to be Steve McQueen, but who's more like a poor man's Fonz

    Bling, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder, so when France's President, Nicolas Sarkozy, stepped out in his mirror Ray-Ban sunglasses and chunky new Rolex watch, the world gasped.

    Not in admiration, mind you. More in sheer disbelief that the President of what is commonly regarded as one of the most stylish countries on earth can look so — well, pardon my schoolgirl French — so, sacre bling!

    The vulgarity is so vile, the ostentation so audacious, that Sarkozy's image advisers have been urgently called in ahead of his visit to meet the Queen next week.

    In an attempt to restore a little dignity to the man his own people have dubbed President Bling-Bling on account of his love of expensive, tasteless baubles, aides at the Elysee Palace have issued him with a list of instructions before he arrives at Windsor Castle.

    They have banned the Ray-Bans and chucked the Rolex, and told him neither to give interviews in his jogging shorts nor send text-messages during top-level meetings.

    Evidently, the President will be spending more time studying the laws of English sartorial etiquette than the rules of British diplomacy.

    Poor little Sarkozy — the man whose ex-wife, Cecilia, accused him of having the husbandly skills of a gnat, the fidelity of a footballer and the grace of a garden gnome — is clearly in the throes of a mid-life crisis.

    So much bling, so little time — he wants to wear it all at once.

    This urge for men, especially those from humble beginnings, to flash their wealth is not uncommon.

    Sarkozy was not born to power. The son of a Hungarian immigrant father, he was raised alone in France by his mother.

    At 53 years old and about as many inches tall, the Napoleon complex runs deep and he's clearly overcompensating.

    He's desperate to look like Steve McQueen in The Great Escape, but ends up as a poor man's version of The Fonz.

    Ray-Bans can be cool, but not the modern, rap-singer, mirrored ones Sarkozy is wearing.

    If he really wanted to impress, he'd wear Ray-Ban's classic Aviators — devised for World War II bombers and fighter pilots.

    I've still got a picture of my dad in his Aviators, sitting astride his Harley Davidson as he waited to get called up in the Air Force.

    Or, if he wants to look like Steve McQueen, he should get a pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarers and match them with a vintage Rolex Daytona, the classic cool watch worn by McQueen and Paul Newman when they were motor-racing.

    Or he might want to splash out on the piece de resistance, the 1968 Rolex Explorer.

    They were only made in the late 1960s and cost around £20,000, but boy, that's a watch fit for a President.

    And the reason I know so much about bling? As I sit here, I am wearing a 20-year-old Oyster Rolex — you know, the gold and platinum one we all drooled over in the Yuppie boom when they started building Canary Wharf in London's Docklands, and we discovered minimalist architecture and maximum expenditure.

    My Ray-Bans are in my sunglasses drawer. Yes, I'm guilty of a whole drawerful, but there's not a mirrored shade among them.

    Back in the Eighties, what we bought wasn't called bling, it was just ostentatious consumerism. We were the new nouveaux riches and proud of it.

    And the extraordinary thing is that today, all those things we bought in the boom years are borderline tasteful — they're not quite vintage, but with the advantage of age, the edges have softened.

    What men like Sarkozy really need is the modern bling equivalent of the Sloane Ranger Handbook.

    But in its absence, there are a few handy tips I would be offering the French President had I the honour of being his style adviser.

    Basically, the first rule is, if you can imagine Peter Stringfellow wearing it — don't. Ditto anything coveted by a footballer or bought for him by his fiancee.

    The self-styled celebrity spreads of OK! and Hello! should be your anti-bling bibles — of what never, ever to wear, even for a bet, even to fancy dress, even with a mask.

    If you are so inclined, as Sarkozy clearly is, you can do a bit of bling. But only a bit — the key is to be discreet.

    Take the lead from Flavio Briatore, the 59-year-old co-owner of Renault Formula One and Queens Park Rangers Football Club.

    Italian Flavio is the King of Bling classic — understated Italian tailoring, with just one flash watch costing more than the entire national debt of a small Third World country.

    But discretion is something Sarkozy simply doesn't understand.

    He's paraded his new wife, Carla Bruni, around like a Barbie doll, and he tarts himself up like a middle-aged midget from Starsky & Hutch.

    But then, as I've said, there's more than a hint of poor boy made good about middle-aged blingers.

    It's the great tragedy for most of us that by the time we can afford to buy the things we really love, we're too old to wear them or drive them.

    Hence the value of vintage. An old Rolex looks fabulous on a middle-aged wrist because it looks as if you bought it at the right time in your life. A 1958 Porsche 356 Speedster looks perfect on a bloke pushing 50.

    Some people have expressed surprise that a French leader should show such bad taste.

    But in truth, this notion that the French are the kings and queens of style has always bemused me — let's face it, the French have always been a bit bling.

    Compare their churches with ours, or their palaces. I can't be the only one who finds Versailles a bit vulgar, all gilt and mirrors like Sarkozy's sunglasses. Our Monarchy wouldn't be caught dead in a place like that.

    The very thought of Sarkozy does rather make one long for Gordon Brown in his beige sweaters and cords or the Queen in her sensible scarves and pearls.

    With his gold wedding ring, huge manly watch and chunky gold necklace that swings suspiciously like it has a medallion hanging on it, Sarkozy is simply de trop.

    We quite expect him to take off his shirt and reveal a diamond navel stud.

    The poor old French can just about forgive him the £15,000 Christian Dior pink engagement ring in the shape of a heart for his new wife, but their toes curl at him swanning around the Mediterranean on a billionaire's private yacht.

    They can't much abide the jogging, but actively despise the fact he does it in Ralph Lauren. And as for that Rolex ...

    Perhaps the biggest mystery of all is why his wife Carla hasn't saved him from himself.

    I mean, if a former supermodel can't stop her husband from stepping out looking like a middle-aged Hungarian rap artist, who can?

    But then Carla Bruni has come in for her own fair share of criticism in the French press for matters of style.

    They say she looks like a long streak of misery in her endless wardrobe of styleless black dresses.

    And, like Cherie Blair before her, Carla seems to be relishing the role of First Lady a little too much — even encouraging her husband to pick up freebies, as he did recently touring a Louis Vuitton handbag factory.

    As he took possession of a must-have Neverfull bag, he said: "Carla will be so pleased. She said to me this morning: 'You better bring me something back from your trip'."

    Which doesn't bode well for their visit to Britain.

    I hope Carla hasn't got her eye on one of the Queen's tiaras. They might be flash, but they're the real thing, darling.

    And vintage, to boot.

    source : Dailymail

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