French Obsession

I'm mildly obsessed with Parisian culture. It happened when I started planning my five year wedding anniversary - a trip to Paris. I read all the blogs, started taking French and read every single Parisian based memoir I could get my hands on. And when I got there? It was just as wonderful as I'd hoped. We had an amazing vacation, were even mistaken for natives a couple of times (mon dieu!), and returned home with tons of pictures and trinkets to remind us of our time there.

It was so wonderful, in fact, that my adoration of Parisian sophistication has persisted. I still read the blogs and am often heard to exclaim over how the table manners here in restaurants just doesn't compare to Paris. (Seriously though, it doesn't. Every time I go to a restaurant it feels like I've entered a mess hall. Just because a place is crowded doesn't mean you have to yell. Just lean in a little closer and talk a little softer. The ambience is better and it's more romantic.)

Lately I discovered a wonderful little Parisian shop online that specializes in only the very best skincare, makeup and hair products. The owner has a store in Paris but also ships worldwide via her online store (it's called Oh My Cream!). I can't resist it! I painstakingly translate the articles in their online magazine and browse through the products, entranced. If only I'd known it was there when I went last summer!

There's just something about the French. I'd love to go back to Paris again, as well as travel through the rest of France, but there's a few different places I need to see first. In the meantime, I will continue to prowl the blogs and shop online, pampering myself with little tastes of French elegance.

Paris

On Sunday night my husband and I returned from our trip to Paris. It was an amazing vacation. Obviously we didn't see it all (I think that's impossible in Paris), but we saw a lot. We wandered through side streets, hit the tourist hot spots, tried out what little French I'd managed to master before we left, and had a wonderful time in each others company. It was the best anniversary a couple could ask for.

There's just something about Paris. Its every avenue drips with history, every building, alley and doorway is something special. I did a lot of research before we left, which helped a lot when it came to understanding the etiquette of going into shops, ordering at restaurants and so forth. I've heard a lot of people say the French are rude or snobby but in my experience this couldn't have been further from the truth. Everyone I interacted with had impeccable manners. The French conduct themselves in a way that is just all together more classy. From the way they dress (no booty shorts or too tight tops or jeans, skank is not an embraced fashion choice there) to the way they talk in restaurants. In a tiny crowded bistro you never had to shout to be heard by your dinner companion. No one tried to talk over anyone else, there was a polite consideration for your fellow diners that you just don't see in North America. The difference was so pronounced that while we waited to board one of several flights home in Canada, I leaned over to my husband and whispered, "I miss the French." I'm a very proud Canadian so that tells you something.

Of course, the real star of Paris (after the history) is the food. Oh. My. God. The food. Everything was so fresh, with so much consideration put into the dishes, while at the same time being so startlingly simple. Being there for just that short time has taught me a lot about eating, about really enjoying my food and not settling for prepackaged garbage. Why have Doritos when you can have Pain au Chocolat? After such an extraordinary trip for my tastebuds I'm looking forward to simplifying, but also going for a slightly higher quality. And if I can find a bakery with good Pain au Chocolat, then I'll really be set.

Of course, our vacation curse struck again when we got home. (Every time we go on vacation, we come home and are struck by some kind of financial grenade). This time our water heater went kaput and leaked water all over our basement floor. So, that's getting replaced by the end of the week and we've been busy cleaning up and getting rid of the dank in our basement. (Which is also why this post is late). It's a financial expense we really don't need after a pricier vacation, but I'm not going to let it get me down. These things happen and this vacation was worth it!

Looming Deadlines

As a procrastinator, I kind of like deadlines. Not so much because of the heart stopping, head pounding stress involved, but because of the way they kick me into action. There's nothing like a looming deadline to get you to turn off twitter or facebook and actually get to work. As it turns out, I have several deadlines looming and they all happen to fall upon my quickly upcoming departure for a vacation to Paris. If you think one looming deadline is stimulating, then believe me, several is um... more so. By a lot. (Also gone with any possibility of spare time is my ability to write intelligent sentences.)

I should be stressed out, and in truth I am, but all these deadlines make me feel more alive. I have a purpose. Every morning I get up and a clattering of alarm bells goes off in my head, reminding me not to doddle; there's so much to do! So much to do! It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once. And although it may seem more stressful to have so many deadlines come due before a vacation, it's actually a relief. The best vacations are the ones you really feel you've earned. Not to mention, no one wants to come back from a trip and have their relaxation torn away by a waiting due date. I prefer to hold onto my post-vacation attitude as long as possible, thank you very much.

The key is organization and good time management. Neither of which I possess. So, I think it's going to get interesting.

As a side note, I'm having a wonderful time preparing for the trip. I'm reading so many Paris themed memoirs, guidebooks and fiction. The librarian looked me up and down as I picked up another stack of books today and muttered, "you must really love Paris, huh?" to which I smiled politely and nodded. No I didn't. I don't possess restraint like normal people. I gushed about my upcoming trip until she was very sorry she commented and practically had to shoo me away. Yep. That's my style.

Parisian Chic - Not So Much

Sometimes there are events in your life that call into question everything you believe about yourself. Sometimes, they happen all at once. In the past month or so, the business I worked for was sold, leaving me without any job security. I've figured out that my dream of mastering even beginner's French before an upcoming trip to Paris is likely to go unfulfilled, and in the haste of preparations for the aforementioned trip, I've had no time to work on my manuscript at all. And then of course, there's Paris itself.

Despite the fact that I'm nearly giddy with excitement, I'm also pretty nervous. I'm not what you'd call Parisian Chic. To give you an example, I'm currently wearing a pair of jeans, my husband's socks and a t-shirt I bought almost ten years ago. Yep. Definitely not Parisian Chic. That doesn't mean I want to be immediately identified as a tourist though. I know I'll never pass for a true Parisian, but it'd be nice if pickpockets couldn't immediately pick me out of a crowd of a hundred.

I've been reading up a lot on Paris (and when I say a lot, I mean A LOT), from blogs to memoirs to guidebooks and they all point to one thing: the more stylish you are, the better service you'll get and the less trouble you'll get into with people trying to take advantage of the poor ignorant tourist.

Now, it would help a lot if I could speak French, but since that ship has sailed, I'm trying to up my chic for the trip. It isn't easy. Although I've never had a problem with my sense of style before, this trip has called into question my entire sense of fashion. I've realized I'm just not comfortable in a lot of the more stylish clothes. To break it down for you, I hate things that are uncomfortable. Freedom of movement is quintessential. Fabrics cannot be itchy or stiff and I'm uncomfortable in skirts. I just don't get how other women can wear them. Every time I put one on, I feel pretty until I step outside, the wind starts to blow and suddenly I'm in fear for my dignity. A walk through the park becomes a battle royale against showing complete strangers my underpants. (While at the same time, attempting to appear as though there isn't a problem). I find skinny jeans to be the most heinous invention ever put on this planet, same with animal print, and the bunions on my feet make "cute shoes" a hopeless dream.

So, you can see my problem. And although I can hold my head high and say with absolute conviction that I will never be the ugly tourist wearing kulats and socks with sandals, I'd also like to aim a little higher than that. I might not have Parisian style, but I'd still like to have style.