Get Loewe

Every time I see this advertisement, I smile.

At first I was confused – “Bro, can I help you? Don’t worry, your hair’s fine.”

And then a little alarmed – “Bro! Why are you giving me that look? I totally brushed my hair this morning!” (Unlikely, for the record.)

And then I started to feel a little uncomfortable, because those eyes just kept following me – “Bro! What is your problem?! Are you looking down my shirt?!” 

But now I smile, the smile of the girl who doesn’t want to bust out laughing on the street because people will think she’s crazy,  because LOOK AT HIM.  The neck frill, the perfect curls, the imperious line of the nose…He is, as they say, sexy and he knows it.

I also just enjoy the way they’re evoking the Age of Gold and Acquisition…like who wants to be conquer the New World/avoid the Inquisition while smelling icky? These are the sorts of situations that behoove us to come up smelling like roses.

(The interwebs tell me that the perfume is inspired by Luis XIV, but we’re in Spain, dudes. We don’t stick French kings on bus stops when we can have dons.)

Also, “shawty got loewe-loewe-loewe-loewe-loewe…”

(PLEASE everyone notice that it’s called Maybe, Maybe, Maybe.)

Also, this man is trying to tell you to “get loewe, get loeweloeweloewe.” In the most Spanish, torero way possible.

And that’s it for now. I still need to pack my monchila and get some sleep before flying to Paris in the morning. It’s supposed to rain? What is this? I wonder if the Loewe men have staring contests with the sky when it’s looking gray…