What do you wear on a Friday night in Paris? I don’t mean nightclub (that was’t that sort of trip 🙂 but a dinner and drinks somewhere nice and cosy? I stood before my parisian closet, which courtesy of the Eurostar and no limit in the luggage department, looked just like my closet in London. Nothing seemed good enough.
Chloe dress? Too girly. Red cocktail dress? Too try hard. Denim and jacket? Meh…I have a thing about dressing up for the evening. As much as I love getting dressed up to the nines during the day, an evening is a different kettle of fish. I always feel that whatever I put on for a night out has to look a bit undone, a little “off” and utterly effortless. I normally rely on my gut feeling telling me “this one, this one and that one, don’t hesitate”. On the days my gut feeling is not talking to me, my outfit seem a bit laboured.
After going through my own wardrobe, I set on my mother’s closet intent on plundering as usual (if she minds this preceder, she graciously hasn’t told me yet). I didn’t have to look far- I found this khaki overseized silk shirt and instantly decided it was perfect. I paired it with my old Zara skirt and silver Anya Hindmarch clutch. I wouldn’t normally match my bag and my shoes but these silver Jimmy Choo sandals are so barely there that it didn’t feel like I was committing a major faux pas.
That evening we set about exploring our neighbourhood. You might have noticed from the location of most of our photo shoots that we were living in a vicinity of the Eiffel Tower. Our apartment was overlooking Champ de Mars and were were literally within 2 minute walk from the Tower. Our area was lovely, full of small bars, coffee places and restaurants. The places were mostly populated by the locals as visitors did not usually get off the path to the Tower. That evening we headed to Le Suffren restaurant, which we eyed up for a few days before, trying to ascertain whether it was popular with the locals. It was. I was dreaming of plates of oysters, raw mussels and sea snails which seemed to be the main offering of the restaurant.
“I’m not eating insects” said my father heading out for a night photo shoot of the Eiffel Tower leaving my mother, The French and me to fend for ourselves. I might have overdone it on the ordering front and even the waiter commented on it “being a lots of food” but I laugh in the face of full plate. I can and I will gladly put away a double portion. We finished off with a lovely Pouilly-Fumè before moving to the bar next door for some more wine (the French seem to keep the best wines in France). It was a glorious evening- thankfully we lived just around the corner!
Shoes- Jimmy Choo
Clutch- Anya Hindmarch
Sunnies- Ray Ban