In the words of my mother: “Paris is undeniable.”
Paris is my favorite city in the world. For all the cliché reasons—the architecture, the food, the fashion. And for my own reasons—it’s the perfect balance of large but walkable, there seem to be 100+ museums, and the expat community here is strong. I don’t know how I got it into my head, but as a child I begged my parents to take me. Reasonably, they told me I had to wait. They struck a deal that if I earned enough money for the plane ticket, my mother and my grandmother would take me. I had a thriving earring business at the time (I was very popular on the middle school fair rotation). So at 13, I went for the first time, and it was even more magical than I anticipated.
I’ve been fortunate to come back almost every year since then, including my semester abroad (abridged by Covid), the month I convinced my firm that I could just as easily do my job from Europe (true), and a memorable 24-hour trip involving the illegal crossing of the French-German border (a story for another time).
In some ways, I feel like I know Paris even better than New York, perhaps because when I’m here I’m out 12 hours a day walking 20k+ steps. And yet every time I come, I discover more. On this trip, I tried to balance returning to old favorites with finding new favorites as well. Here’s the best things I did in Paris this time. (If you want the full list of my recommendations for a four-day weekend or for a month, reply to this email!)
Culture moments
My favorite coffee shop, Le Peloton, has been hosting community events called “Spilling the Beans” and I was so excited my stay overlapped with one of them. It’s basically an open mic night where people share stories in French and English. Hosted in the Brûlerie de Belleville, the first third-wave coffee roastery in Paris, it was a full house of Frenchies and expats alike. This was my favorite night in Paris. Everyone (even the French!) was chatty and many new friendships were made.
I visited the Musée Jacquemart André, a beautiful 19th century mansion filled with Renaissance paintings. They had a wonderful exhibit of Bellini (the artist, not the drink). If you’ve already seen the Louvre and the d’Orsay, Paris has a bunch of mansions filled with private collections that are open to the public, including the Jean-Jacques Henner and Musée de la Vie Romantique.
Membership at the Yale Club grants “reciprocal membership” at clubs around the world. I tried it out for the first time and was admitted to the Cercle de l’Union Interallié. The club is housed in the Henri de Rothschild “hotel” (confusingly, the French word for a particular kind of mansion) and was founded during World War I as a place for soldiers to meet and collaborate on solutions. It was….much fancier than the Yale Club. I committed a true faux pas by showing up on the rare day I was wearing jeans. I was sent to the gym, as that was the only place that attire was allowed. I did laugh that that’s how the French view jeans, as appropriate for sports. I returned triumphant the next day in a much more appropriate outfit and had lunch in one of their grandiose dining halls. I hope to return one summer and read in the beautiful garden.
I stopped by the art store Sennelier to pick up a watercolor palette for a friend, and I snagged some sketching notebooks and Japanese pens for myself as well. It is exactly how you would imagine a tiny, product-packed French art store, adorable attic included.
S. and I went to Angelina’s, where the line for a table snaked around the block. I have two tricks: first option, walk past the line on Rue de Rivoli and go into the boutique, where you can ask for the hot chocolate to go. Second option, go to the café in the Jardins de Luxembourg, which is no less cute than the original location, but never has a line. And there’s more than just hot chocolate—my mother loves the caramels from there.
Right next door to Angelina’s, I always stop by the Libraire Galignani. It’s the oldest English-language bookstore in Paris (take that, Shakespeare & Co.!) and they have a great fashion and art section.
The FT called Partisan Café one of the best coffee shops in the world. I have already made my allegiance to the best coffee shop known, but this was a nice stop, too.
The Hôtel de Ville had a fun exhibit on Paris street art. I’m quite obsessed with the game Invader, where you snap photos of the mosaic aliens a mysterious artist pasted up all over Paris. It compels me to take different routes around the city in the hopes that I might spot an alien.
Fashion
Contrary to popular belief, I actually don’t shop that much. I am the lucky recipient of clothes from my mother, grandmother, and fairy godmother (shoutout E.), which coupled with the tendency to never get rid of any of my clothes, ever, comprises the bulk of my wardrobe. But I do love to pick up one or two souvenirs when I travel.
I, of course, had to visit my friends at Nicolas Villani. Last year, I walked into this store near the Arc de Triomphe and met the two lovely women who run it, Jeanne and Emma. We got to chatting and I learned that they’re hoping to sell their clothes in a boutique in New York (if you have any leads, let me know!). We’ve kept up a correspondence since then, so I was so pleased to see them again. I bought a beautiful orange silk dress that I’m excited to wear to work and on holiday this summer, and I will always think of my friends in Paris when I wear it.
My friend S. who was with me for the first few days in Paris discovered Imparfaite, a pop-up vintage store that was literally in the ground floor apartment of a random building in the Marais. She made out like a bandit, scoring a beautiful pink silk dress that looked like it was made for her (and cost only 40 euros), a fun collared shirt with bunny embroidery, and a pair of perfect black vintage Levi’s 501s. I bought a vintage blue silk Pucci dress, that after a little bit of surgery at the tailor’s, I’m hoping to wear to work when it’s 80 degrees this summer in New York. I also found a vintage brown leather bag for 49 euros that looked straight out of French It Girl Jeanne Damas’ brand Rouje. (I saw a super similar one in her store window for 300 euros).
I also stopped by French staple brand Agnès B. Although I did not buy anything (no more room in the suitcase!), I am eyeing this cardigan when it comes back in stock in navy.
I also love to visit the Dries van Noten store on the Quai Malaquais, though it’s very much a look and admire situation for me and my budget. I am convinced though that I could recreate this bag:
Bags, bags, bags
I found this place in the Marais where you make your own bag. A very kind, blue-haired woman walked us through the process of selecting a bag shape, fabrics, and structure. They have some sort of relationship with Chanel where they get their castoff fabrics. I, of course, had to go for some Chanel tweeds. Next, I ironed interfacing onto the fabrics to give them extra strength. I opted for a “rigid” bag, so I was instructed to glue cardboard to the fabric (do we think this is how they do it at Chanel? Perhaps.). I added a lining, then the professional sewer helped me put the whole thing together. They had an industrial machine to poke holes in the fabric so I could add grommets (the pointy metal bits at the bottom of a bag) and eyelets (the holes the chain goes through). I selected a chain with leather and threaded it through the holes. A few pins and decorations later, voila!
Look of the week
What’s on the bedside table
I picked up Strange Weather in Tokyo by Hiromi Kawakami, one of Japan’s most famous authors, while I was in Daunt Books in London. (I was drawn to its surreal cover.) It tells the story of Tsukikko, a young woman who falls in love with her former schoolteacher (yikes!) after they run into each other at a Tokyo bar. This was a beautiful, tender love story told through subtle prose and rich descriptions of foods and sights in Japan. I especially liked the author’s afterword, where she wrote about how she as an author wondered what happened to the characters when they weren’t in the scenes she wrote. I am dying to visit Tokyo, but until then will satisfy myself with exquisite literature from the country. Five stars.
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