Paris was the first leg of my trip around Europe back in November. I have not been to Paris since the summer of 2014. For the past year and a half or so, I thought that I didn’t want to go back. It was part of a past life- a city that I already explored, already lived and already had loved. It was the epicenter of my heartbreak of 2014 and every street and every corner and every restaurant reminded me of my life there. It wasn’t until I was being pulled to Paris for work that I decided that I kind of missed it.
So, a few months months back, I arrived in Paris, but- surprise, surprise- my luggage did not. As an experienced jet-setter- I pack my favorite clothes, such as a Chanel Tweed Jacket, a Dries Van Noten printed dress and a Maison Martin Margiela trench, in separate bags in case one luggage gets lost. I was prepared and I was happy to do as the locals do though and opt for my Chanel Tweed, skinny jeans and tee-shirt for a few days. But the bigger issue surrounding my lost luggage was what I was going to do when I had to train to Basel and then to London, where I would be meeting with customers and needed the appropriate attire. I could always go shopping, but I traveled to Europe at the worst possible time- right before holiday, meaning before any reductions with prices higher than they would be in New York- i.e., don't freaking bleed your credit cards.
Paris this time around was a much more hushed affair, and in a way, felt like I was living there again. As the befitted and discreet locations that I dined at with the company I was with, it was all a very demure ordeal. Parisians live life with this old-world charm that you just don't find in America. On my strolls through the left bank, I walked the streets that were oh-so-famous to writers and composers alike and noticed that the people still residing in this area still have a sense of affection for this artistic flare. I met friends for fancy lunches at Cafe Marly (with striking views of The Louvre), caught up with the family of my ex-boyfriend for tea at Palais Royale and enjoyed quiet evenings at Derriere. I drank coffee at Carette, went shopping on Saint-Honoré and sipped evening cocktails at Le Market. It was so normal, that it almost seemed like I had never left.
I rely on severe black staples (Ann Demeulemeester jackets, Celine sweaters, Prada silk blouses) that will look both stylish in any city, but also act functionally whether I am meeting a customer or going out at night. I like the English way of dressing, where you throw anything on with great boots and top it off with a hat, but also adding in the New York flavor where you opt in all black and staples that have personality. Parisians love their fresh blooms, their vintage jewelry and their Chanel- and it's considered a necessity. So, this outfit seemed entirely fitting since I love Chanel and I secretly have a love for Paris that I can never get rid of, no matter how hard I try. So here I am, in a very cliché photo opt, wearing a serious amount of Chanel.