Jeanne

Charles is upset with the pace of the car because he can’t challenge the front runners.

Carlos is upset that he finished behind Charles.

In this context, Esteban was saying "Bloody Hell, what the fuck did you do"

i see that charles is the type of person who is a team player. at the very same time he's ambitious, he somehow never lets his team spirit die. and it is very clear he respects seb too much. but people forget that seb is also the type to wish good things for charles' future and make it clear ferrari was the one not giving them the car they deserved. i see that seb is the type of person to know what really is harmful and what is not. even when a bit spiteful on those last moments at the team (as he should!), he never took it out on charles - not even talking about his fall from grace for charles or racing results because i wouldn't be fair once everything was a bit yikes at that point.

It’s always superlicence this and FISA-FOCA that, but I ask you; where is the real discourse we need about the strike? When will the mainstream F1 press give us what we want - a full-on deep dive analysis into everybody’s outfit a la Vogue on Oscar night? 

Well, here. Here is that discourse.

I will begin by saying generally there seemed to be two broad categories of outfit on show; either preppy country club daddy, or slutty twink attending pride for the first time. I will note who falls into which category as we proceed. You may find the style choice of some drivers surprising.

Let’s get to it…

Niki Lauda (prep)

Look, Niki had bigger things to worry about, I get it. He had to hire the bus first thing that morning. He spent all day trying to keep everyone in order, he had to go to the front desk to arrange all the sleepover bedding, he was fighting for his goddamn rights against Jean-Marie Balestre. He didn’t have time for a fashion show. But still. This is rather phoned in. Beige cords, utilitarian black polo? Meh. I will however award a bonus point for the navy baseball cap instead of his usual red. The less said about the weird fish logo on his cords, the better.

Nigel Mansell (twink)

Yes. Nigel Mansell; Il Leone, Red Five, the manliest racing driver this side of Tom Selleck’s moustache, was once a mere slip of a twink. Tbh the outfit itself isn’t too special, just a white polo and off-white booty shorts, but for me it’s the tilt of the head, the lowered gaze, the shy smile that really sells it as peak ingénue. Truly mansueto: tame, docile, gentle, submissive, breedable. Also at one point his sunglasses were tucked inside his shorts. Jesus H. Christ, Nigel. One of my faves.

Gilles Villeneuve (twink)

Quite simply the tightest jorts I have ever seen in my life. 100/10, no notes.

Alain Prost (twink)

There are a lot of contenders in the t-shirt and booty shorts genre at the strike, however I genuinely think Alain is one of the better entries. The dark navy shorts look smart as well as a little slutty, and the athleisure t-shirt looks cute and keeps his sponsors happy. A solid look from Le Professeur.

René Arnoux (prep)

René is trying hard for Ralph Lauren chic here but is just falling short. The yellow polo and beige slacks are a smidge too bland. I have an feeling if he had gone for twinky booty shorts instead of trousers, this could have been a winner. A pity. He has a beautiful tan however, and the all-gold accessories win him back some points.

Didier Pironi (prep)

Didier here showing Niki it is possible to run a strike and still serve lewks. The stripe across his polo adds interest to plain white, and the blue of his Levis perfectly matches his eyes. The loafers say “I’m casual and fun”, yet the stainless steel briefcase says “I mean business”. Bernie and Jean-Marie saw him rock up to the negotiations in this fit and knew they had no chance.

Andrea de Cesaris (twink)

A surprise contender for Look of the Strike™. The eye-catching cherry red of the printed tee (Google tells me it is the nickname for the Alabama College Football team), the crisp white shorts and trainers, the athletic tube socks; Andrea is channelling 80s John Hughes protagonist and he is making it work. Bonus point for the quads of steel. However he loses marks for the briefcase (it’s kind of weird and pointless). Not quite a perfect score.

Nelson Piquet (twink)

Nelson bucks the trend and goes for a printed tee instead of the more popular polo shirt. To be honest this outfit shouldn’t work, nothing really matches; bright blue shorts and a schlubby beige tee don’t exactly scream high fashion. It looks like he rolled out of bed and grabbed the first clothes he saw (tbh very possible). However, it’s the insouciant attitude that comes from being the reigning world champion that really carries this look; I have more important things to worry about, that strut says, than what I wear. And, dammit Nelson, he pulls it off.

Riccardo Patrese (prep)

Okay. Oookay. Riccardo looked ridiculously hot at the strike, let’s get that out of the way first thing. He goes for yet another polo shirt and shorts look, but the longer length of the shorts and the rich navy blue of the shirt keeps it interesting. I hereby bequeath him with the official Hottest Driver in Attendance Award. Niki better move aside because I think we all would like to snuggle up on that mattress.

Keke Rosberg (prep)

Keke did not want to go to the strike apparently, but he didn’t let it stop him from staying on trend in this all-navy shirt and jeans ensemble. The darker shade of blue emphasizes his tan and golden highlights. The slight oversizing of the shirt make his waist look actually snatched. This is low-key but super chic, I like it a lot.

John Watson (twink)

John is really going down the “ageing tennis pro trying to seduce you on holiday” route. It also has a touch of “how do you do, fellow young drivers?” Good for him. It’s the same outfit as Nigel, more or less, but Wattie looks perhaps a little too old at this point to pull off bridal all-white; he doesn’t quite have the same charming naivety required to sell it. 10/10 for aviators, though.

Bruno Giacomelli (no category)

Oh this outfit! It’s not twinky, it’s not preppy, and I simply ADORE it. The wraparound shades, the bomber jacket, the plain white tee and jeans. It’s pure James Dean. If there were a few more photos this might actually win it for me.

Elio de Angelis (prep)

Now, on the surface perhaps this look isn’t so special. Red shirt and jeans, who cares? However, think! Think about later on. In the small hours, when everyone is ready for bed, in the smoky darkness of the hotel room, Elio will be sat at the piano, playing the sexiest Mozart shit you ever heard. His sleeves will be rolled up, his top shirt buttons undone, showing a teasing flash of chest, a cigarette will be smouldering in his pursed lips, the light every so often catching his gold Rolex, his hair falling into his eyes as he concentrates on the soft lilting rhythm of the music. He will look spectacular and everyone will want to have sex with him.

Carlos Reutemann (no category)

In Lole’s defense, apparently he didn’t know the strike was going on and was bundled onto the coach first thing without a change of clothes. However, I don’t accept this as an excuse. The half-undone overalls and t-shirt combo may work in the pits, but you’re in the big leagues now, Carlos. Try harder.

Patrick Tambay (prep)

He doesn’t even go here! Patrick didn’t have a seat on the grid at this point in time but came to the strike anyway, and he damn near stole the show in patriotic, tricolore-themed faded red white and blue. Even his shoes match! Preppy and sleek. Chapeau, Patrick.

Riccardo Paletti (twink)

This is the best outfit of the strike, don’t @ me. The oversized aviator frames, the white polo with blue accents, the combination skinny/flare fit navy dungarees, the fluffy bed hair, even the casual cigarette. I would wear this but I would not look as good. Riccardo Paletti, you win first prize.

No review as I could not find good footage/photos of them: Michele Alboreto, Jacques Laffite, Eddie Cheever. Babes, I’m truly, truly sorry but also next time try to get yourselves in a picture maybe.

No review as I don’t care: Teo Fabi, Derek Warwick, the rest

the first time I went in there I pointed at one of those extra-skinny baguettes and said “a flute, please” feeling pretty sure of myself, and the baker said “… that’s a ficelle” (you idiot) (was implied) “a flute is twice as large as a baguette.”

That’s insane, first of all, a flute is a skinny instrument. Call your fat baguette a bassoon, lady—I made some timid remark about how it would make more sense for a flute to be a skinny bread and the baker said, “In Paris it is. I thought you were from the South?”

oh, that hurt

I guess I’m from the part of the South that’s so close to Italy the bread’s waist size matters less than whether it’s got olives in it, but I left the bakery having an existential crisis over whether living in Paris had made me forget my roots

the Least Intimidating Bakery just had normal baguettes vs. seedy baguettes vs. horny baguettes (easy mode, some have seeds, some have horns), while the new bakery has breads that are only different on a molecular level—there’s a good old loaf and then another, identical loaf called a bastard? google told me a bastard is “halfway between a baguette and a bread” but denouncing them like “those are not regulation-sized bastards” would get me banned from the bakery for life

on my 2nd visit (while I stood in line discreetly googling baguette terminology) there was an English tourist who asked for a baguette while pointing at what was either a rustique or a sesame and I felt a bit worried for them, but the baker just clarified “this one?” to waive any responsibility if they found out later it wasn’t a classic baguette, then handed them the bread without educating them in a judgmental tone and I felt envious

I know it’s because she thinks the English are beyond saving but still it made me want to come back with a fake moustache and an English accent so I wouldn’t be expected to play bakery on expert mode just because I’m French. I asked for a pastry this time and the baker asked “no bread with that?” which felt cruel, like she wanted me to sprinkle myself with ashes and admit out loud that my level of bread proficiency isn’t as advanced as I once believed it was

The third time I went, I had lost all self-confidence and I hesitantly pointed at a bread and said “I’d like this, uh—what is it called?” and the baker looked at me in disbelief and said “That’s a baguette.”

God.

for the record, if that stupid bread had been flanked by a skinny bread (ficelle) and a fat one (flute) then yeah of course I would have known to call it a baguette, but in the absence of reference points I now felt lost and scared of being called a Parisian again

for @stormxpadme ❤️ youre the best, im keeping that ask with all the options for the future bcs theyre all 👀

"It could be Asfaloth," Charles chimed in absently, and Sebastian clucked his tongue, equally annoyed and endeared.

"Asfaloth is the horse in Lord of the Rings, Charles, for God's sake," he said with much less patience than he usually had. He still couldn't quite supress the smile on his face.