Raquel & Chloé

Smells like James Dean

“Non uso mai i collant” she told me

I know you don’t Sara. Or do you think I don’t remember the photos we did in May?

Andrea – untrimmed beard, unstraightened tie (just like prince charming)

(and of course, the cardigan makes all the difference)

Sabrina & Noisette

Niccolò’s cape (Via della Spiga)

I’m an urban person, I really am. Or at least, in some degree, I consider myself as one. But I love the rural features, and most of all, the sensible presence that this piece conveys and that doesn’t go against its nature. Although rustic, it has a modern cosmopolitan flair that goes beyond the pieces that the urban flocks use. I’ve said it before here, wore it here and here and, almost enchanted, ended up here. And enough with this, since unlike the dozens of people that wrote me asking, I don’t sell capes, cloaks or shepherd’s coat. Nor does our leading man. But there’s one thing I can assure you, I would be greatly successful if I did. And so would Niccolò, that’s for sure!

I always heard that

the most remarkable features could spring from the most insignificant details

Filippo

Cesare & Cuca

Japan in Milan

(is it me or there’s something here that invokes me an oriental Sex and the City or, as they say it… セックスアンドザシティ?)

La felicità di essere Maria

Frédéric & Stacey

Milan is Milan and the rest is just nonsense

Maybe that’s why it’s not so strange that the first person I photographed here also had something in exchange to give me that was fashion-related. Maybe that’s why it’s not so strange that in those two or three minutes of conversation I had the feeling I was in the presence of someone that was more than a simple style reference. She was some type of femininity archetype. If there were any doubts, they disappeared here and here. Oh... and here

Shorts, cuffed jeans, ripped collars and knee socks (similar details)

I would be lying if I said that my outfit is similar to Bruno’s or that tomorrow I’ll be having dinner with a Catarina lookalike. The age is not the same and so is not the context. But the truth is that I’m a fan of shorts, I love to wear cuffs, I rip off the collar of 90% of my t-shirts and all my outfits at the Bank are composed by knee high socks. Maybe that's why, or very probably that is why I asked my friend João "Are you sure you don’t mind stopping the car? Because I would really love to photograph them..."

A pretty lady (with matching glasses)

Latin flavour

The husband had told her “Honey… there’s no need to take the raincoat to Oporto”, but she didn’t listen

Alvarinho, the Moledo* man

* about Moledo

Of all the possible titles that I can remember for this post, one of them doesn’t do justice to Joana, the other almost implies that

I want to marry her. So I might as well use this one!

United Coolness of Carolina

It was about time I photographed Ayres in Oporto (or maybe it was about time I came back here)

I must confess

that sometimes I look at people more than once. In a discreet way, trying to confirm if that first impression is for real. And then, there’s those times when just one glimpse is enough for me to know that I want to take that photograph and that I want that person to be my new post. This photo, this post

He’s still stylish when he’s hurt

Theories about saltiness and feminine beauty

A college friend used to say that the woman of his life would be one of those cute girls that after a day at the beach still look beautiful and dashing despite all the sand and salt in their hair and body. That dream came true in the form of a girl that was studying Economy and had some Law classes with us. According to him, she had never seemed so sexy like the day he saw her at a Comporta beach. When I looked at Leonor a while ago, still carrying the remainings of a day at the beach, I saw more than a beautiful and simple girl (or should I say "simply beautiful"?). I remembered Manel and his theories about saltiness and feminine beauty. Manel knows this blog and the day he reads this he will think “how on earth does that son of a b#!%# still remember that?”. You see, I also have my own theories and in them, right next to this image of Leonor, is also the image of that the Economy student

Maria (Maria’s dress, Maria’s boots, Maria’s vest, Maria’s bag, Maria’s tattoo, Maria’s sack and all of Maria’s accessories)

Palma, Ana

Madalena, Madalena’s dress, the squares in Madalena’s dress and Madalena’s blog (Ericeira)

It’s strange to ask a perfect stranger if we can take their picture. Doing it all the time is even stranger. But, with some tweaks here and there, we start to get the hang of it and soon it begins to feel like a routine. And like so many other things in this blog, I keep on experimenting and testing so that – at least here – I too don’t fall into routine. But I’m not the only responsible for that. If it were for me I would have already published children’s pictures here. But if it’s strange to ask a perfect stranger if we can take their picture, it’s even stranger to tell that stranger not to consider my request as strange:

- Can I take a picture of your son?

And that’s why I never did it before.

No one can deny that this blog transmits good vibes. And that those good vibes are contagious. If it didn’t then this photo would not have been taken. And that’s where its biggest merit lies. The blog’s own merit, not mine. Because the energy is not mine… And for a very simple reason… Because the blog is also not mine. It’s Gonçalo’s, João’s, Rui’s and Kenzo’s. It belongs to Mr. Horácio, Yim, Yen, Maria and Alex. It belongs to the old couple that I photographed in the Gaia’s Pier, to Ayres (and his grandfather), Nana, Sebastiano, Iara and Namalimba. It also belongs to Mr. Nicolau, whose hand I just shaked a while ago in this same beach, asking "do you remember me?!". It's Luigi’s, Osíris's, my sister’s, Baiba’s and Thaís’s. It’s James’s, Pureza’s, Pri’s and Dasha’s. Varela’s, José Luís’s and Rebecca’s. Marcela’s, Sebastiano’s, Ann-Krintin’s and Camila’s. It’s also the blog of Simon and Sanna, Sancha and Vitório, of the two marines whom I ran into one day, of Charlotte, of the girls with the blue sash, of Virve and of my father. And it’s also, from now on… Madalena’s blog

Oriental style on a high waist by Esmeralda

Austrian simplicity in a Lisbon garden

For all I know, she probably lost my visit card and will never see these pictures. But if she happens to find them I’m sure she will love them. And that’s what keeps this blog going. More than a portrait of a city, its people or its fashion. That is why this blog will never end… Because if she ever sees these pictures, I’m sure she will love them

There are conventional men and then there are bold men. And then… there’s the best of both worlds

Passeig Maritimo (Palma) – flower power

Passeig del Born – beauty lies in the simplest of things

Carrer de Colon – how the traffic stopped

[what you guys don’t know and that, to be honest, I'm a little embarrassed to say (surprisingly, I still have some shame left) is that I waited for 10 minutes (Ok… 15m) for Helena to leave the store where I saw her to take her picture. It’s not the 1st time that I do something like this and I doubt it will be my last]

Palma – the Sinbad effect

Five months, five gardens

A Londoner spends the double of his time in the parks of London than a Lisbonian does in Lisbon.

In the historical centre of Tallin alone there are more 23 outdoor cafés than in Lisbon and all its metropolitan area.

The percentage of Swedish executives that wear linen suits is the double of the Portuguese executives.

The Dubliners smile, on average, 2.43 times more a day than the Lisbonians.

On average, the wardrobe of a Madrilenian woman has more 4 mini-skirts than the wardrobe of a Lisbonian woman.

In December, there are 5,000 more cyclists in the streets of Riga than in our avenues.

On average, between December 21st and March 21st a Milanese gets together with his friends after work 7 times more times than a Lisbonian (that same ratio increases from 11 to 1 between March 22nd and June 20th).

The chances of a Lisbonian having, from 5PM onwards on a Sunday, the feeling of acute apathy or slight depression for not being able to get out of his head that Monday is quickly approaching is 9 times higher than the one of a Berliner.

There are 3 times more outdoor concerts per year in Bruxels than in Lisbon.

A teenager from Moscow is 3.5 times more courageous to approach the girl next door that he sees daily when they both walk their dogs than a Lisbonian teenager (knowing that the latter, with the odds on his side and a possibility 7 times lower of rain and 23 times of cold, prefers to find her on Facebook).

Taking into account all these statistical improbabilities that are hard to justify or even to understand, the odds of a festival like the Out Jazz being held in another European city with much less conditions than the ones in Lisbon would be extremely high. The point of publishing these data is not to make fun of ourselves (which is also a healthy exercise) but to promote the events that help enjoy the best of what each city has to offer. And that's the good news. Out Jazz is here. It's five months of continuous activity spread by five different gardens where Jazz (and not only) is(are) a good excuse to relax in the grass, or in one of the puffs just listening to the music. It’s an open invitation to enjoy a melodious afternoon in a green scenery. From May to September, the Out Jazz visits five gardens of Lisbon, with a different band and DJ each Sunday. This post would have made more sense in the last weekend of April than in the last weekend of August but, mea culpa, I only knew about the festival this year (in the middle of its 4th edition). But you still can enjoy one month of Jazz. Today was the last day in Torre de Belém. Next is Tapada das Necessidades and anyone who’s been there will tell you that it’s really worth it. And using the wise words of Cesária Évora that we listened last Sunday in a remix version, if you visit Tapada das Necessidades these next Sundays, from September this year, until May next year, you won’t be feeling “saudade”* just for the good weather. And I’m being serious.

* portuguese word, mean here

Seville in Madrid

Postcard from the Baltic

Hey man, how’s it going?

I’m not going to lie, Riga is filled with beautiful women, but you don’t catch glimpses such as this one in every corner. Thus the “postcard” title. Baiba has something really special in her and, deep down, she perfectly shows the cosmopolitan idea that the Baltic transmits. Here, most people carry their PCs and MACs around because you can easily find a place with internet access. As you can imagine, for a guy like me, that has to go to Terrugem’s public library when I need to visit a site that is not related with Banking, this is something that I take very personally. On another level, the thing that touched me the most was the natural way of how they look at a foreigner guy that suggests taking their photo. The spontaneity... the trust when they’re approached by a perfect stranger or the ease on how they invite him to a birthday party later that day. That was, no doubt, the thing that touched me the most.

Dinner next Saturday, don’t forget!

Zé

You'll wear the bow tie and I'll bring the flowers

The photographer that turns XXL shirts into mini dresses

And, like the title suggests, she also takes some pictures

Elegant cyclist

Kristine's superman

you can find (among many other things) acessories like this one...[more or less original, more or less bold...] here

Unbearable lightness

Riga