There are cities you declare eternal love to.There are people whose life becomes a bit of your life.And there are evenings when something changes and a strong and unstoppable passion is born.Paris.Frida Zazou sees the light on a cold and rainy evening in March, one of those evenings in which the French capital shows its inhospitable side.Frida is sitting alone at a table next to ours. Looking at her, one understands that she had a past made of beauty and love.She tells us that the "zazou" has been sewn on her in all these years as a sign of recognition for those who, like her, have loved jazz music in all these years long  the Second World War.She has  lived great passions, one for music, one for dance and one for Paris, her adopted city that she has chosen as the theater of her adventurous life.We came out of that brasserie keeping in the heart a piece of that elegant lady, bringing with us the ardor of her passions and that "zazou" which  is and will always be a love label for us.