So as to bore you to death with superfluous photographs of, and references to, Paris (exhibits A, B, C, D), I’ve decided to channel my wanderlust into a new series called My Inner French Girl. Since I rarely need further provocation to make a round-up of items I like/want/need (see: every post prior), this feels like a natural extension and melding of two things I’m really passionate about: the City of Lights and online shopping. My Inner French Girl will explore different daily activities, and I’ll compile a host of items specific to how the chic, petite, messy-haired, pouty-lipped Parisian goddess who lives inside of me would approach them. This series was influenced by Theresa’s fabulous “Wear in the World” series (to which I contributed, surprise!, an outfit for 24 hours in Paris that I ended up mimicking exactly on my trip there in May) and a comment conversation I had with Veanad over our own inner French girls. Hers is more refined than mine, but I’m working on it.
So to kick things off, I’d like to start at the beginning: morning. A breezy, spring morning in a teeny 6th floor studio in the 17th.
My Inner French Girl wakes up to light streaming in and spilling over the old chevron floors. She peels herself out of bed and shuffles to the little galley kitchen and pours herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the counter. Pulling on a button down shirt from its spot at the end of her bed, she clicks on the radio on the window sill and pushes the window open. She takes a deep breath and smiles contentedly as she looks out at the inky blue, zinc rooftops. Jazz floats softly through the room, diluting the car horns of early morning commuters from the Avenue de Wagram below. Grabbing a croissant she picked up from the Patisserie on her corner yesterday and a healthy smear of caramel au buerre sale, she sits back down on her bed and thumbs through her copy of “A Moveable Feast,” trying to find where she fell asleep the night before. Eventually she’ll take a shower, and emerge smelling of lavender and almond oil. But right now, she’s content to sit and read and let the morning open up around her.
(Okay, I lied. That didn’t help at all. It actually made things worse.)