Jason Schwartzman makes me happy. He’s not the usual person I’d fall hopelessly in fangirlism with but he makes me happy with his flicky hair, ever impressive smallness and penchant to wes anderson wonderment.
I’ll forgive him that drably executed but wonderously decadent affair with his cousin - what was it, marie who? I’m not sure but the scene end of the interwebs died a little what with the impromptu and overly insubtle irony of a pink converse shoe and some macarons. Granted I’m harsh, Louis was wonderous and perfect possibly because he is Jason Schwartzman who inspired me to make this post in the first place.
So today everyone, you should go and discover him if you have not been so fortunate as to already, that is. Start with Rushmore, make some tea, have some toast and when you go to bed utterly satiated and dribbling with happiness, perhaps play some Coconut Records and listen to his optimistic attempts at musicality - not as bad as you’d imagine, quite adorable, a little flippant but utterly loveable. Music to tap your toe too.
