Paris Calling

I've just returned from my first trip to Paris and although it was brief (four days with one spent sick and one travelling to the airport) I fell in love. For anyone who's been and felt the same, the city tends to follow you home a little, non? The fabulous ones always do. Maybe it was that Fashion Week was happening while I was there and upon returning I've been exposed to all the buzz on the net and TV which keeps the excitement for Paris fashion going. Whatever it is, I'm hooked. It was all I wanted it to be. I ate crepes every day, saw people eating huge baguettes on the street and many men were sporting black berets. The Eiffel Tower was huge and far more impressive than I'd imagined (I'm terrified of heights so I didn't go up but the pavement was lovely), The Seine sparkled in the moonlight and Mademoiselle Lisa was charming and looking good for her age. So the childhood notions garnered from movies and books of what Paris is about held true, to my delight. My photos turned out well and I don't even understand my camera so that just goes to show the city is a spectacular model, naturallement.

You can feel fashion in the air in Paris. This is the city that nurtured Coco Chanel (and a long list of other fashion visionaries) so it makes sense (nevermind that their first lady is Carla Bruni!). It's in the Parisians' blood so they're just not 'try hard', you know? I should probably hold my thoughts until I see more of the city and its people. But my observations were that Parisians do the trends (or create them?) but are doing it in their own way, without looking like they bought the mannequin from head to toe with all the accessories. I noticed quite a few seemingly stylish women wearing above the knee tights (think top down so if you envision bike shorts you wouldn't be wrong) teamed with knee high boots. And when I say 'women' I don't mean 17 year old girls who typically can get away with the unimaginable, these ladies would have at least a few jars of creams promising to reduce lines sitting on their vanities. Bike shorts and tall boots is not a look I'd really go for but it worked for them and I'd say that indicates innate style - it didn't look ridiculous because of how they wore it - with a smile and their heads held up high. Magnifique!

They do love their high boots and skinny jeans for trekking around town and so I tried not to let it bother me too much that I was wearing my old red Donald J. Pliner wedge loafers with the scuffed toes for long adventures around the city (for comfort, because of a knee problem and the fact that I'm not a masochist). People were kind, no one looked down at them in disgust. Maybe my pale pink felt cloche was a good distraction, keeps the eyes looking upward, my saviour.

I also noticed the streets are a sea of black - black coats, black pants, black boots. Of course it was February so I'm curious to see if the streets are more vibrant come spring. It's the same everywhere as far as I can tell, am I alone in wanting to see a rainbow of shades all year long?

Okay, uh, you are probably wondering right now what the heck I'm talking about if you have looked left. As I went to post the photo of me with my daughter under the Eiffel Tower I was humbly reminded that I was wearing a black coat (too bad it didn't show the scuffed red loafers for further humiliation). LET ME EXPLAIN. I didn't own anything black, not a coat, pants, top, belt, shoes or even socks, for several years. I was into colour to such an extreme (don't think I went out of the house in clothes resembling clown costumes or anything!) and thought I looked dead in black so it was banned from my wardrobe. No LBD even, more like LPDs (meaning pink, not purple). I've added a bit in the past few months mainly because you tend to get a bit bored of what you're doing after some time and need to mix things up. One of these purchases was a wide high-belted Milly coat with black and gold buttons (as seen in photo). It has a cute A-line shape and is textured with a criss-cross thread pattern. It was half-price and I felt good in it so it was a done deal despite me already having a full wardrobe of coats. This includes a recent 50s vintage buy that I can't bear to wear (bought online). It's not just the fur collar that makes me feel guilty, the real crime here is that an innocent, unsuspecting, ugly moss green sofa was sacrified to make this coat.

I DIGRESS! So, after my complaint about the 'sea of black' in the streets all over the world it happens that I am swimming right in line with the rest of them. I guess due to years of colourful choices I still don't identify with the blackened woollen masses. On colder days I go for my cheery pale yellow Mackage coat with their signature leather trim that I am wearing for a fourth winter. I just had to add a few darts to the back vent because I noticed it was cut too high and was showing my butt when I walked. I don't know if it's done that since I bought it but how embarrassing! How could those walking behind me not look at my butt trying to bust through? Ugh.

FINALLY, I had to check out Rue Montaigne, a designer wonderland of the most fabulous boutiques where I cannot even afford to window shop. I was worried the gentleman greeters looming at the door were going to ask to see a recent bank statement. But I managed to get some pics of a stunning Valentino couture gown. The entire top was made of a seed bead design on mesh finished with an elaborate corded swirl pattern. This was repeated at the bottom of the skirt (see the detail) but I was so focused on the beadwork I forgot to take a picture of the entire dress! I found it to be especially inspiring and wished I could make a bag right then and there.

And one last note: I almost can't bear to mention that I didn't have time to visit Colette (I know, I could die of shame), but it's #1 on the list next time! What a wicked website, you must take a look.