WHAT do you pack for a week in Paris? I googled it and lost all hope. I mean really, is a stripy Breton top and ballet pumps (The stripy tops you see on the photo? They all belong to The French. Red dress is mine) the ONLY option? Or otherwise I will look like a bermuda wearing tourist? Sans bermuda of course but falling into the same category.
So what do I pack? Will my London wardrobe be enough? Do I need to go shopping beforehand? Who says I have to blend in anyway?
Secondly – am I slim enough for Paris standards? Will I be run out of town tarred and feathered for stuffing my face with every pastry that comes my way? I’ve tried and failed miserably on the diet front. I can’t do it, that constant denial and deprivation without even a glimpse of hope depresses me. I had fantastic results once on the Dukan diet; I also lost the will to live.
I realise that those are very nice problems to have. Yet the wardrobe thing worries me because I’m anxious to feel like a traveller rather then a tourist. I want to look like one of the cool girls and pretend I have this fabulous life.
I veer between luxe traveller’s and cool girl’s closet. I’ve put together mood boards largely consisting of Michael Kors adverts and Caroline De Maigret Tumblr photos. If I paired white denim with navy silk top I can pretend to be in a Kors advert.
Somebody once told me that mirrors are either deceitful or broken. Well, mine is certainly on the way to being broken. I can’t believe it’s me. I take a few steps back
to see if I look slimmer to gain a bit more perspective but it doesn’t help. I step back further still… where do I get a proper mirror from? Changing room ones are notoriously mean. Well, anyway it’s a bit too late now to start any major diet change.
And really, I wish I had taken up those French classes last year but as with everything else, it’s too late now. Where is my pocket dictionary? I will have to make do with attitude…