The mood is playful on the sidewalks of Boulevard de Clichy, between the 9th and 18th arrondissements of Paris.
In front of the windows of the sex shops and their garish lighting, a couple of tourists laugh in front of “the Tower is crazy”, the star vibrator bearing the image of the Eiffel Tower.
A little further on, a group of teenagers mark time, half laughing and half intrigued, in front of these outdated temples of lust.
But few people rush behind the thick red curtains still hung in front of certain shops.
“Outside, it’s light.
Here, it’s the cave, the chiaroscuro,” smiles Terry, a young salesman in a sex shop at the foot of the Moulin-Rouge.
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