The promise of Paris makes me happy.
It is a town I am determined to absorb into. I don’t speak the language but whenever I spend just enough time in France, I develop an appropriate inflection originating from the back of my throat that obscures consonants in the appropriately French manner.
Anticipating the week of syllable-dropping and cafe-sitting, planning for a springtime journey a Par-ee is considerably more exciting than sorting outfits for the winter trek to London was. Warmer temps aside, the City of Light gives fashion-forward femmes license to indulge in our most coquettish sensibilities.
So, what to pack for a week a fracais? Everything.
A Chloe wrap top with puffed sleeves that never finds its way into rotation in the States. Vintage sheer Neiman Marcus. The best purchase ever, a Zara jacket plumed collar and cuffs. Another(!) sheer black top, backless. Cream sequined tank. And that’s just the tops.
Lingerie. Yes, lingerie. I’ll make it my mission to seek out the shops here, but you DON’T layer luxe on top of 3-for-$5 Hanes Her Way.
Shoes? Shoes took up the bulk of the suitcase. I love, love my new tall black leather boots and the Victorian ankle booties, both Plenty by Tracy Reese.
And purses. I have no idea why I packed four, but I did. And let’s be honest, I’m shopping for more.
