La Joie De Vivre

Last day in Paris.

As Flea, Elizabeth and I dance around our room to Edith Piaf's La Foule while we pack our bags, it dawns on us. Leaving the City of Lights is always an unwelcome task. The atmosphere of Paris is so different to what the guidebooks tell us, yet so similar to what films show it to be.
In the end we went out yesterday night and we got drunk on Paris. On the flirty waiters and on the street performers. On the silver lining of the moon upon the gentle ripples of the Seine as the boats floated past us, as we screamed "Bonsoir" and "Je t'adore" at them. The French largely ignored us, the Korean and Japanese tourists were enthralled and waved back energetically. And although Elizabeth and I know that no city could take London's place, we find ourselves wondering when we will be able to come back and enjoy all these lights, these pain au chocolat smells, these couples fighting and making up a minute later, strolling off to some dark corner of Paris to kiss the night away.
Maybe next summer we'll manage to rent an apartment in Les Halles and literally street style the city to our liking. We would spend our time largely in Montmartre, sipping tea (English habits die hard) and philosophizing the afternoon away. Flea would probably get bored and wonder off to find another waistcoat and some clothing with Aztec prints (she's been going for the tribal trend lately and it looks really good on her, with her ever so tanned skin). Elizabeth and I would challenge Jean-Paul Sartre, while toying with our new foulards.
Oh the fun, the mind games!

 



Une Ombre De La Rue

Only our second day in Paris and already our trio has inspected most Vintage stores in the area. We are all most satisfied with our finds, which includes Flea's moss green waistcoat (pictures to follow) and Elizabeth's red 60s cape with black, faux-fur collar and cuffs (pictures to follow).
This (partially) was the home of the waistcoat:

 

 

The address is 147 Rue Sant. Martin - the shop is small and crowded, so take your time when exploring it. Do not write it off just because you might get a little sweaty and a little dusty in the process of treasure hunting.

 

Elizabeth's cape was a lucky find; we were about to give up our quest when she stopped in front of two side-by-side vintage shops run by two elderly Frenchmen, both puffing on cigarettes, and asked them if they had a cape. She has been obsessed with finding a velvet cape like the one Emily Browning wears in the Australian shocker film by Julia Leigh, Sleeping Beauty (2011), which incidentally Elizabeth and I both loved - It was crude, direct, honest, disturbing. What's not to love?

Anyway, she was lucky and one of the men told her to look next door (the two shops are at 83 and 85 Rue Sant. Martin). Ta-da! One coat plus a good discount equals one happy Elizabeth and a hungrier Flea. We headed for a restaurant, which happened to be La Coopérative on Rue de Rivoli.

Needless to say, Flea was extremely happy:

 

 



 

Cheesecake, cheesecake and more cheesecake!

For Elizabeth, the safe bet were the Crêpes au Nutella:

 





 







 

The French really do have a very peculiar way of doing things - I mean, look at the way that crêpe is folded - but apart from the individuals who decide that it is in the city's sewers best interest if they urinate in the streets, we quite enjoy the change.

Our little trio ended up going back to the hotel in the late afternoon and decided that we weren't going to do much in the evening, since we stupidly wore heels during the day. Even if you're used to it, even if you brave the London Tube everyday in Jeffrey Campbells, don't prance around Paris in heels. Don't do it. Think of the hours of therapy your feet will need afterwards.

Parisian women's feet are immune to pain by now, after centuries of coercing by their masters.

Don't fret, there is an elegant alternative: watch Funny Face (Donen, 1957), Audrey Hepburn dancing around Paris in perfect flats. You'll feel better about wearing ballerinas or brogues while elegantly floating through Paris, I promise.

 

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? ..Je pense que je suis amoureuse de toi

These past few weeks have been absolutely crazy, and after A LOT of hassle, Elizabeth, Flea and I are heading out to dear old Paris for a pre-holiday stop. Flea has been in love with Paris since she was a little girl and every time we land in Charles de Gaulle, she looks just as excited as she did all those years ago, setting foot in the French capital for the first time.

Tip: first two songs to listen to as you proceed into the city are Sous Le Ciel De Paris by Juliette Gréco and La Mer by Charles Trenet. You might have heard both before, the first in An Education (Scherfig, 2009) where Carey Mulligan sings along to it in her room and the latter in The Dreamers (Bertolucci, 2003) when Eva Green fulfills a daring dare.
Naturally, any Edith Piaf song may create the husky, Sun-setting-on-the-Seine feeling -
A few personal favourites are La Foule, Milord and Hymne à L'Amour.

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Just arrived at the hotel, a clean and simple place in Les Halles - the centre of Paris, almost everything is walking distance and we like it that way. There are awful stories about what happens in the Métro de Paris. First thing's first, we're leaving all our luggage here and delicately plonking ourselves in the nearest café for a croissant or two and a cafe au lait. More details on where we ended up later.

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We got lucky! La-di-da, sexual meaning aside, even though it was quite late, Elizabeth, Flea and I found a lovely place to rest our tired bones and soak up the feel of Paris. The name of this haven is Le Sarah Bernard on Place du Châtelet Nr. 2 - It masquerades as a timeless, tasteful café when really it's an ode to the Divine Sarah. I'm not going to digress into her life story and her relationship with the theatre and cinema, since what I want to concentrate on is Paris itself, but visit it if you can. Tomorrow our little Bande à Part (yes, that's a reference to the 1964 Godard film) have a long day of Vintage Hunting ahead of us, and although we won't be dancing in cafés, we do need our sleep. Bonne Nuit!

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