Latest news with #Coccinelle
Vogue Singapore
10-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Vogue Singapore
At Boucheron, to love nature is to love it at its wildest and unruliest
The natural world is a perennial source of inspiration for jewellers. Among the glamorous names of Place Vendôme jewellers, however, Frédéric Boucheron stood apart for a unique perspective: nature that's untamed and almost wild. This is the inspiration behind Untamed Nature, the collection of high jewellery that Boucheron recently presented in Tokyo. In it, creative director Claire Choisne pays homage to the brand's founder and revisits the theme of nature with jewels that creep and crawl across the body. Crafted from a classical palette of white gold and diamonds, these designs reassert the house's unhemmed perspective: pieces named after flowers but which only feature leaves and buds; instead of pretty butterflies, garden creatures like flies and beetles; ivy, thistle and carrot flower plant motifs that look like they've sprouted on the body. Boucheron's Untamed Nature glorifies less-than-pretty plants such as ivy, wild carrot, oats and cattails; and garden creepy crawlies like flies and beetles. Courtesy of Boucheron Vogue Singapore caught up with CEO Hélène Poulit-Duquesne while in Tokyo to discuss this new collection, the allure and challenge of acquiring original Frédéric Boucheron at auction, and how the maison balances classical designs with a more wildly innovative side. Untamed Nature draws a lot of inspiration from Frédéric Boucheron's pieces from the 1880s. What is the innovation that differentiates this new collection from the past? Surprisingly, what is the most innovative technically is finding a solution to go back to the past. Through the years, jewellery ateliers have been moving towards more metal to make pieces safer in terms of quality. But at the time Frédéric wanted no metal, only the stones to be seen. At the time, he wanted nature to be over-realistic, as if you'd picked the flowers. So in this collection Claire decided to push the artisans and say 'you have to come back to the lightness of Frédéric'. Fleur de Carotte (carrotflower) multiwear brooch in white gold with diamonds; and Mouche (fly) and Coccinelle (ladybug) multiwear brooches in white gold with diamonds, mother-of-pearl, rock crystal and black lacquer. Courtesy of Boucheron In this collection, and in your patrimony pieces by Frédéric Boucheron, there is a love of imperfection. Roses aren't fully bloomed, and the maison crafts jewelled bugs and flies. Do clients today still see this beauty of the imperfect? I'm sure they will react nicely because we believe that this is a reality of nature. Claire and myself, we love imperfection. We hide what is totally perfect. But I said to myself very intuitively that we should sell this collection quickly because it's so close to the pieces Frédéric Boucheron was manufacturing. These pieces are difficult to find, they are so rare—you have one or two pieces a year coming to auction. Archival c.1880 Boucheron bodice train jewel with foliage and flower bud motifs. Courtesy of Boucheron It's almost archival. Why are such pieces so unavailable on the auction market? The level of production was lower. I'm following all the auctions because we're trying to buy pieces back. We have one piece here, the tiara with a butterfly, that I had to bid nearly double what I had in mind at the beginning. We have a lot of collectors, which is great because it gives value to the brand and to the work of Frédéric Boucheron. Chardon (thistle) multiwear brooch in white gold with diamonds; Scarabée Rhinocéros (Rhinoceros beetle) ring in white gold with diamonds, mother-of-pearl, rock crystal and black lacquer; and Bourdon (bumblebee) multiwear ring in white gold with diamonds, onyx, mother-of-pearl, rock crystal and black lacquer. Courtesy of Boucheron Is there a specific kind of nature that interests you? Plants from Asia or Europe grow quite differently. Yes, for example, and it's a stupid example, but we are totally obsessed with the bouquets in our boutiques. Because it represents the way we agree on nature, and our vision and identity. It's wild, and it's a lot more about plants than flowers. Nature that you can find in the woods, in the fields and in the countryside. If we don't have the right bouquet we're super upset. Avoine (oats) multiwear head jewels in white gold with diamonds; Lucane (stag beetle) multiwear ring in white gold with diamonds and black lacquer; and Papillon de Nuit (moth) multiwear brooch in white gold with diamonds, mother-of-pearl and black lacquer. Courtesy of Boucheron Boucheron works with unorthodox materials like rattan and aerogel, particularly in the Carte Blanche high jewellery collections in July. Has it ever been an issue explaining these materials to clients who are used to precious gems and metals? We have two types of clients. One is similar to contemporary art buyers and they understand what Claire is trying to communicate. The classical client, who is more on the investment side, wants big stones. We have two collections a year: July is super innovative, and the one in January is more classical. The one we're presenting here in Tokyo is diamonds, diamonds and diamonds. On top of that, these two collections only represent a third of what we sell in high jewellery. The rest is what we call the classics, like Question Mark necklaces and big stones, and they come out of our ateliers every month. How do you put a price on pieces when you're working with unorthodox materials like rattan? On the craziest pieces, we have a low margin. I have a simple example. When we decided to use Cofalit, which is waste, the material didn't cost anything. But the process of making it a material for jewellery took us three years, and in the end, the Cofalit was more expensive than gold to produce and manufacture. If you take the original cost and decide on a margin, then these kinds of pieces would be so expensive that a client could not understand it. So, we lower the margin. This interview has been edited for length and clarity. Interview Desmond Lim Words Gordon Ng Vogue Singapore's June 2025 'Gold' issue is available on newsstands and online.
CairoScene
08-07-2025
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
Coccinelle Studios Debuts in Cairo With Soulful Home Details
Coccinelle Studios Debuts in Cairo With Soulful Home Details Founded by Cairo-based creatives Engy Kandil and Yasmine Montasser, Coccinelle is a home decor studio that favours a detail-first approach over fleeting trends. Their debut collection, composed of five cushions and two runners, captures the studio's core philosophy: design that respects tradition while speaking a contemporary language. 'We don't see modern and traditional as opposites. For us, they're part of the same conversation,' the founders said. This idea highlights the meeting point that shows up in every layer of Coccinelle's pieces: patchwork that feels both curated and intuitive, colour palettes that mix depth with lightness, and a balance of precision and imperfection only handmade work can offer. The brand's name - French for ladybug - was first suggested during a conversation about the launch collection's vibrant patterns. Minutes later, a ladybug landed on Kandil's hand. 'It felt like the clearest sign that this wasn't just the name of a debut collection - it would be the entire essence of what the brand would become,' Kandil told SceneHome. Montasser's artistic foundation and intuitive feel for materials and composition, combined with Kandil's spatial sensitivity and eye for design, materials, and details, formed the backbone of their brand. Early on, they visited places like Khayameya, Wekala, Darb 1718, and Khan El Khalili to immerse themselves in what local artisans were working on and to fully understand the range of techniques and materials available - ensuring they stayed grounded in their design context rather than creating in a bubble. That collaboration extends to the ground level of the process -selecting fabrics from Cairo's markets, coordinating with artisans, even testing out filling densities for the cushions. 'Our backgrounds complemented each other so well – from interiors and art to visuals and storytelling, we were able to handle almost everything in-house,' Montasser explained. While 'handcrafted' and 'heritage-inspired' have become marketing buzzwords, Coccinelle's work feels refreshingly grounded in its context. Their process often begins with a single fabric - sometimes one with personal meaning, like the vintage textile from Kandil's late grandmother that inspired their 'Eternal' cushion - and unfolds from there, one of their most meaningful pieces as proof of how something deeply personal can spark a whole creative journey. Colour, too, is not an afterthought but a core part of their identity. With anchor shades like plum, mustard, and olive, the team builds visual tension through contrasting tones, layered textures, and unusual combinations. 'We're obsessed with how colours interact, how they photograph in different lighting, and how they play out across various textures and patterns. The end result might look effortless, but the process behind it is anything but,' they added. Another key value is scarcity. By producing in limited batches, Coccinelle ensures each item maintains its individuality, allowing space for variation and artisanal nuance. As they explained, 'In a world where mass production often overshadows individuality, it's a reaction to the way mass production flattens everything.' In a landscape where design often races toward novelty, Coccinelle Studios slows things down - offering a thoughtful, tactile, and deeply personal vision of what the pieces your home holds can look like when you let colour, craft, and memory lead the way.
San Francisco Chronicle
22-05-2025
- Entertainment
- San Francisco Chronicle
Before the word ‘transgender' existed, there was Bambi, the dazzling Parisian icon
PARIS (AP) — The moment that changed queer history occurred on a sweltering summer day in early 1950s Algeria. An effeminate teenage boy named Jean-Pierre Pruvot stood mesmerized as traffic halted and crowds swarmed around a scandalous spectacle unfolding in the conservative Algiers streets. All had stopped to look at Coccinelle, the flamboyant 'transvestite' star of Paris' legendary cabaret, the Carrousel de Paris, who strutted defiantly down the boulevard, impeccably dressed as a woman, sparking awe and outrage and literally stopping traffic. What Pruvot — who would become famous under the female stage name 'Bambi' — witnessed was more than mere performance. It was an act of resistance from the ashes of the Nazi persecution of the LGBTQ+ community in World War II. 'I didn't even know that (identity) existed,' Bambi told The Associated Press in a rare interview. 'I said to myself, 'I'm going to do the same.'' Decades before transgender became a household word and 'RuPaul's Drag Race' became a worldwide hit — before visibility brought rights and recognition — the Carrousel troupe in the late 1940s emerged as a glamorous, audacious resistance. Bambi soon joined Coccinelle, April Ashley, and Capucine to revive queer visibility in Europe for the first time since the Nazis had violently destroyed Berlin's thriving queer scene of the 1930s. The Nazis branded gay men with pink triangles, deported and murdered thousands, erasing queer culture overnight. Just a few years after the war, Carrousel performers strode onto the global stage, a glittering frontline against lingering prejudice. Remarkably, audiences at the Carrousel knew exactly who these performers were — women who, as Bambi puts it, 'would bare all.' Elvis Presley, Ava Gardner, Édith Piaf, Maria Callas and Marlene Dietrich all flocked to the cabaret, drawn to the allure of performers labeled 'travestis.' The stars sought out the Carrousel to flirt with postwar Paris's wild side. It was an intoxicating contradiction: cross-dressing was criminalized, yet the venue was packed with celebrities. The history of queer liberation shifted in this cabaret, one sequin at a time. The contrast was chilling: as Bambi arrived in Paris and found fame dancing naked for film stars, across the English Channel in early 1950s Britain the code-breaking genius Alan Turing was chemically castrated for being gay, leading to his suicide. Evenings spent with legends Today, nearing 90, Marie-Pierre Pruvot — as she has been known for decades by some — lives alone in an unassuming apartment in northeastern Paris. Her bookshelves spill over with volumes of literature and philosophy. A black feather boa, a lone whisper from her glamorous past, hangs loosely over a chair. Yet Bambi wasn't just part of the show; she was the show — with expressive almond-shaped eyes, pear-shaped face, and beauty indistinguishable from any desired Parisienne. Yet one key difference set her apart — a difference criminalized by French law. The depth of her history only becomes apparent as she points to striking and glamorous photographs and recounts evenings spent with legends. Such was their then-fame that the name of Bambi's housemate, Coccinelle, became slang for "trans" in Israel — often cruelly. Once Dietrich, the starry queer icon, arrived at the tiny Madame Arthur cabaret alongside Jean Marais, the actor and Jean Cocteau's gay lover. 'It was packed,' Bambi recalled. 'Jean Marais instantly said, 'Sit (me and Marlene) on stage' And so they were seated onstage, legs crossed, champagne by their side, watching us perform.' Another day, Dietrich swept in to a hair salon. 'Marlene always had this distant, untouchable air — except when late for the hairdresser,' Bambi says, smiling. 'She rushed in, kissed the hairdresser, settled beneath the dryer, stretched her long legs imperiously onto a stool, and lit a cigarette. Her gaunt pout as she smoked — I'll never forget it,' she says, her impression exaggerated as she sucked in her cheeks. Perhaps Dietrich wasn't her favorite star. Then there was Piaf, who, one evening, teasingly joked about her protégé, the French singing legend Charles Aznavour, performing nearby. 'She asked, 'What time does Aznavour start?'' Bambi recalled. 'Someone said, 'Midnight.' So she joked, 'Then it'll be finished by five past midnight.'" Reassignment surgery Behind the glamour lay constant danger. Living openly as a woman was illegal. 'There was a police decree,' Bambi recalls. 'It was a criminal offense for a man to dress as a woman. But if you wore pants and flat shoes, you weren't considered dressed as a woman.' The injustice was global. Homosexuality remained criminalized for decades: in Britain until 1967, in parts of the U.S. until 2003. Progress came slowly. In 1950s Paris, though, Bambi bought hormones casually over-the-counter, 'like salt and pepper at the grocery.' 'It was much freer then,' but stakes were high, she said. Sisters were jailed, raped, driven into sex work. One comrade died after botched gender reassignment surgery in Casablanca. 'There was only Casablanca,' she emphasized, with one doctor performing the high-risk surgeries. Bambi waited cautiously until her best friends, Coccinelle and April Ashley, had safely undergone procedures from the late 50s before doing the same herself. Each night required extraordinary courage. Post-war Paris was scarred, haunted. The Carrousel wasn't mere entertainment — but a fingers' up to the past in heels and eyeliner. 'There was this after-the-war feeling — people wanted to have fun,' Bambi recalled. With no television, the cabarets were packed every night. 'You could feel it — people demanded to laugh, to enjoy themselves, to be happy. They wanted to live again … to forget the miseries of the war.' In 1974, sensing a shift, Bambi quietly stepped away from celebrity, unwilling to become 'an aging showgirl.' Swiftly obtaining legal female identity in Algeria, she became a respected teacher and Sorbonne scholar, hiding her dazzling past beneath Marcel Proust and careful anonymity for decades. 'I never wore a mask' Given what she's witnessed, or because of it, she's remarkably serene about recent controversies around gender. This transgender pioneer feels wokeism has moved too quickly, fueling a backlash. She sees U.S. President Donald Trump as part of 'a global reaction against wokeism… families aren't ready… we need to pause and breathe a little before moving forward again.' Inclusive pronouns and language 'complicate the language,' she insists. Asked about Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling's anti-trans stance, her response is calmly dismissive: 'Her opinion counts no more than a baker's or a cleaning lady's.' Bambi has outlived her Carrousel sisters — April Ashley, Capucine, and Coccinelle. Still elegant, she stands quietly proud. When she first stepped onstage, the world lacked the language to describe her. She danced anyway. Now, words exist. Rights exist. Movements exist. And Bambi, still standing serenely, quietly reaffirms her truth: 'I never wore a mask,' she says softly, but firmly. 'Except when I was a boy.'
Washington Post
22-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Washington Post
Before the word ‘transgender' existed, there was Bambi, the dazzling Parisian icon
PARIS — The moment that changed queer history occurred on a sweltering summer day in early 1950s Algeria. An effeminate teenage boy named Jean-Pierre Pruvot stood mesmerized as traffic halted and crowds swarmed around a scandalous spectacle unfolding in the conservative Algiers streets. All had stopped to look at Coccinelle, the flamboyant 'transvestite' star of Paris' legendary cabaret, the Carrousel de Paris, who strutted defiantly down the boulevard, impeccably dressed as a woman, sparking awe and outrage and literally stopping traffic. What Pruvot — who would become famous under the female stage name 'Bambi' — witnessed was more than mere performance. It was an act of resistance from the ashes of the Nazi persecution of the LGBTQ+ community in World War II. 'I didn't even know that (identity) existed,' Bambi told The Associated Press in a rare interview. 'I said to myself, 'I'm going to do the same.'' Decades before transgender became a household word and 'RuPaul's Drag Race' became a worldwide hit — before visibility brought rights and recognition — the Carrousel troupe in the late 1940s emerged as a glamorous, audacious resistance. Bambi soon joined Coccinelle, April Ashley, and Capucine to revive queer visibility in Europe for the first time since the Nazis had violently destroyed Berlin's thriving queer scene of the 1930s. The Nazis branded gay men with pink triangles, deported and murdered thousands, erasing queer culture overnight. Just a few years after the war, Carrousel performers strode onto the global stage, a glittering frontline against lingering prejudice. Remarkably, audiences at the Carrousel knew exactly who these performers were — women who, as Bambi puts it, 'would bare all.' Elvis Presley, Ava Gardner, Édith Piaf, Maria Callas and Marlene Dietrich all flocked to the cabaret, drawn to the allure of performers labeled 'travestis.' The stars sought out the Carrousel to flirt with postwar Paris's wild side. It was an intoxicating contradiction: cross-dressing was criminalized, yet the venue was packed with celebrities. The history of queer liberation shifted in this cabaret, one sequin at a time. The contrast was chilling: as Bambi arrived in Paris and found fame dancing naked for film stars, across the English Channel in early 1950s Britain the code-breaking genius Alan Turing was chemically castrated for being gay, leading to his suicide. Today, nearing 90, Marie-Pierre Pruvot — as she has been known for decades by some — lives alone in an unassuming apartment in northeastern Paris. Her bookshelves spill over with volumes of literature and philosophy. A black feather boa, a lone whisper from her glamorous past, hangs loosely over a chair. Yet Bambi wasn't just part of the show; she was the show — with expressive almond-shaped eyes, pear-shaped face, and beauty indistinguishable from any desired Parisienne. Yet one key difference set her apart — a difference criminalized by French law. The depth of her history only becomes apparent as she points to striking and glamorous photographs and recounts evenings spent with legends. Such was their then-fame that the name of Bambi's housemate, Coccinelle, became slang for 'trans' in Israel — often cruelly. Once Dietrich, the starry queer icon, arrived at the tiny Madame Arthur cabaret alongside Jean Marais, the actor and Jean Cocteau's gay lover. 'It was packed,' Bambi recalled. 'Jean Marais instantly said, 'Sit (me and Marlene) on stage' And so they were seated onstage, legs crossed, champagne by their side, watching us perform.' Another day, Dietrich swept in to a hair salon. 'Marlene always had this distant, untouchable air — except when late for the hairdresser,' Bambi says, smiling. 'She rushed in, kissed the hairdresser, settled beneath the dryer, stretched her long legs imperiously onto a stool, and lit a cigarette. Her gaunt pout as she smoked — I'll never forget it,' she says, her impression exaggerated as she sucked in her cheeks. Perhaps Dietrich wasn't her favorite star. Then there was Piaf, who, one evening, teasingly joked about her protégé, the French singing legend Charles Aznavour , performing nearby. 'She asked, 'What time does Aznavour start?'' Bambi recalled. 'Someone said, 'Midnight.' So she joked, 'Then it'll be finished by five past midnight.'' Behind the glamour lay constant danger. Living openly as a woman was illegal. 'There was a police decree,' Bambi recalls. 'It was a criminal offense for a man to dress as a woman. But if you wore pants and flat shoes, you weren't considered dressed as a woman.' The injustice was global. Homosexuality remained criminalized for decades: in Britain until 1967, in parts of the U.S. until 2003. Progress came slowly. In 1950s Paris, though, Bambi bought hormones casually over-the-counter, 'like salt and pepper at the grocery.' 'It was much freer then,' but stakes were high, she said. Sisters were jailed, raped, driven into sex work. One comrade died after botched gender reassignment surgery in Casablanca. 'There was only Casablanca,' she emphasized, with one doctor performing the high-risk surgeries. Bambi waited cautiously until her best friends, Coccinelle and April Ashley, had safely undergone procedures from the late 50s before doing the same herself. Each night required extraordinary courage. Post-war Paris was scarred, haunted. The Carrousel wasn't mere entertainment — but a fingers' up to the past in heels and eyeliner. 'There was this after-the-war feeling — people wanted to have fun,' Bambi recalled. With no television, the cabarets were packed every night. 'You could feel it — people demanded to laugh, to enjoy themselves, to be happy. They wanted to live again … to forget the miseries of the war.' In 1974, sensing a shift, Bambi quietly stepped away from celebrity, unwilling to become 'an aging showgirl.' Swiftly obtaining legal female identity in Algeria, she became a respected teacher and Sorbonne scholar, hiding her dazzling past beneath Marcel Proust and careful anonymity for decades. Given what she's witnessed, or because of it, she's remarkably serene about recent controversies around gender. This transgender pioneer feels wokeism has moved too quickly, fueling a backlash. She sees U.S. President Donald Trump as part of 'a global reaction against wokeism… families aren't ready… we need to pause and breathe a little before moving forward again.' Inclusive pronouns and language 'complicate the language,' she insists. Asked about Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling's anti-trans stance , her response is calmly dismissive: 'Her opinion counts no more than a baker's or a cleaning lady's.' Bambi has outlived her Carrousel sisters — April Ashley, Capucine, and Coccinelle. Still elegant, she stands quietly proud. When she first stepped onstage, the world lacked the language to describe her. She danced anyway. Now, words exist. Rights exist. Movements exist. And Bambi, still standing serenely, quietly reaffirms her truth: 'I never wore a mask,' she says softly, but firmly. 'Except when I was a boy.'
Yahoo
22-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Before the word ‘transgender' existed, there was Bambi, the dazzling Parisian icon
PARIS (AP) — The moment that changed queer history occurred on a sweltering summer day in early 1950s Algeria. An effeminate teenage boy named Jean-Pierre Pruvot stood mesmerized as traffic halted and crowds swarmed around a scandalous spectacle unfolding in the conservative Algiers streets. All had stopped to look at Coccinelle, the flamboyant 'transvestite' star of Paris' legendary cabaret, the Carrousel de Paris, who strutted defiantly down the boulevard, impeccably dressed as a woman, sparking awe and outrage and literally stopping traffic. What Pruvot — who would become famous under the female stage name 'Bambi' — witnessed was more than mere performance. It was an act of resistance from the ashes of the Nazi persecution of the LGBTQ+ community in World War II. 'I didn't even know that (identity) existed,' Bambi told The Associated Press in a rare interview. 'I said to myself, 'I'm going to do the same.'' Decades before transgender became a household word and 'RuPaul's Drag Race' became a worldwide hit — before visibility brought rights and recognition — the Carrousel troupe in the late 1940s emerged as a glamorous, audacious resistance. Bambi soon joined Coccinelle, April Ashley, and Capucine to revive queer visibility in Europe for the first time since the Nazis had violently destroyed Berlin's thriving queer scene of the 1930s. The Nazis branded gay men with pink triangles, deported and murdered thousands, erasing queer culture overnight. Just a few years after the war, Carrousel performers strode onto the global stage, a glittering frontline against lingering prejudice. Remarkably, audiences at the Carrousel knew exactly who these performers were — women who, as Bambi puts it, 'would bare all.' Elvis Presley, Ava Gardner, Édith Piaf, Maria Callas and Marlene Dietrich all flocked to the cabaret, drawn to the allure of performers labeled 'travestis.' The stars sought out the Carrousel to flirt with postwar Paris's wild side. It was an intoxicating contradiction: cross-dressing was criminalized, yet the venue was packed with celebrities. The history of queer liberation shifted in this cabaret, one sequin at a time. The contrast was chilling: as Bambi arrived in Paris and found fame dancing naked for film stars, across the English Channel in early 1950s Britain the code-breaking genius Alan Turing was chemically castrated for being gay, leading to his suicide. Evenings spent with legends Today, nearing 90, Marie-Pierre Pruvot — as she has been known for decades by some — lives alone in an unassuming apartment in northeastern Paris. Her bookshelves spill over with volumes of literature and philosophy. A black feather boa, a lone whisper from her glamorous past, hangs loosely over a chair. Yet Bambi wasn't just part of the show; she was the show — with expressive almond-shaped eyes, pear-shaped face, and beauty indistinguishable from any desired Parisienne. Yet one key difference set her apart — a difference criminalized by French law. The depth of her history only becomes apparent as she points to striking and glamorous photographs and recounts evenings spent with legends. Such was their then-fame that the name of Bambi's housemate, Coccinelle, became slang for "trans" in Israel — often cruelly. Once Dietrich, the starry queer icon, arrived at the tiny Madame Arthur cabaret alongside Jean Marais, the actor and Jean Cocteau's gay lover. 'It was packed,' Bambi recalled. 'Jean Marais instantly said, 'Sit (me and Marlene) on stage' And so they were seated onstage, legs crossed, champagne by their side, watching us perform.' Another day, Dietrich swept in to a hair salon. 'Marlene always had this distant, untouchable air — except when late for the hairdresser,' Bambi says, smiling. 'She rushed in, kissed the hairdresser, settled beneath the dryer, stretched her long legs imperiously onto a stool, and lit a cigarette. Her gaunt pout as she smoked — I'll never forget it,' she says, her impression exaggerated as she sucked in her cheeks. Perhaps Dietrich wasn't her favorite star. Then there was Piaf, who, one evening, teasingly joked about her protégé, the French singing legend Charles Aznavour, performing nearby. 'She asked, 'What time does Aznavour start?'' Bambi recalled. 'Someone said, 'Midnight.' So she joked, 'Then it'll be finished by five past midnight.'" Reassignment surgery Behind the glamour lay constant danger. Living openly as a woman was illegal. 'There was a police decree,' Bambi recalls. 'It was a criminal offense for a man to dress as a woman. But if you wore pants and flat shoes, you weren't considered dressed as a woman.' The injustice was global. Homosexuality remained criminalized for decades: in Britain until 1967, in parts of the U.S. until 2003. Progress came slowly. In 1950s Paris, though, Bambi bought hormones casually over-the-counter, 'like salt and pepper at the grocery.' 'It was much freer then,' but stakes were high, she said. Sisters were jailed, raped, driven into sex work. One comrade died after botched gender reassignment surgery in Casablanca. 'There was only Casablanca,' she emphasized, with one doctor performing the high-risk surgeries. Bambi waited cautiously until her best friends, Coccinelle and April Ashley, had safely undergone procedures from the late 50s before doing the same herself. Each night required extraordinary courage. Post-war Paris was scarred, haunted. The Carrousel wasn't mere entertainment — but a fingers' up to the past in heels and eyeliner. 'There was this after-the-war feeling — people wanted to have fun,' Bambi recalled. With no television, the cabarets were packed every night. 'You could feel it — people demanded to laugh, to enjoy themselves, to be happy. They wanted to live again … to forget the miseries of the war.' In 1974, sensing a shift, Bambi quietly stepped away from celebrity, unwilling to become 'an aging showgirl.' Swiftly obtaining legal female identity in Algeria, she became a respected teacher and Sorbonne scholar, hiding her dazzling past beneath Marcel Proust and careful anonymity for decades. 'I never wore a mask' Given what she's witnessed, or because of it, she's remarkably serene about recent controversies around gender. This transgender pioneer feels wokeism has moved too quickly, fueling a backlash. She sees U.S. President Donald Trump as part of 'a global reaction against wokeism… families aren't ready… we need to pause and breathe a little before moving forward again.' Inclusive pronouns and language 'complicate the language,' she insists. Asked about Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling's anti-trans stance, her response is calmly dismissive: 'Her opinion counts no more than a baker's or a cleaning lady's.' Bambi has outlived her Carrousel sisters — April Ashley, Capucine, and Coccinelle. Still elegant, she stands quietly proud. When she first stepped onstage, the world lacked the language to describe her. She danced anyway. Now, words exist. Rights exist. Movements exist. And Bambi, still standing serenely, quietly reaffirms her truth: 'I never wore a mask,' she says softly, but firmly. 'Except when I was a boy.'
