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Archive for the ‘Paris’ Category

Wee Birdy is a blog devoted  to ‘shopping, style, beauty and more’. The blogger is an Australian-born freelance journalist, now living in London — and seems to know what she’s talking about when it comes to fashion.

There are some great posts (and photos) on her recent trip to Paris — where she does a nice round-up of all the best places to shop (why didn’t I think of that? All I came back with was a toothache…).

The blog looks to be relatively new but I reckon it’s going to be a winner. Despite some exhaustive research (a quick scan over the profile page) I’ve not discovered the *name of this blogger yet but I’m on the case.

*I’ve just noticed that she signs herself  Top Bird on her posts — so that will do for now.

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Lost in Paris

Went to Paris. Got lost (again). The person I was with bought lots of shoes and I bought two bags. I would have bought more but my Visa wouldn’t work in any of the shops (much embarrassment). Our hotel was in the 7th arrondissement — the most boring area in Paris. Never stay there.

We developed a weight fixation while we were there because all of the younger women in Paris are a size ten, maximum. Even if my credit card had worked I could not have bought any clothes because everything was too small — and I’m only a size twelve. The person I was with (I’m going for a ‘no-names’ policy here, for the time being) was on the verge of tears half the time because she is a size fourteen and was practically laughed out of shops when she attemped to try things on. I consoled her by pointing out that all French women are flat-chested (true) and that we would have the advantage in the summer/tight tee-shirt months. We ate cakes to celebrate this fact.

Contrary to popular belief, the French hardly drink. There’s a lot of wine kicking around but they take about an hour to drink half a glass. We had guzzled down three Jack Daniels/G&T’s in about an hour (using some self-control, as we didn’t want to give the impression of being a couple of lushes) but were too embarrassed to order any more as everyone else was still on their first glass of wine.

The older women in Paris have terrible dress-sense (apart from the very rich ones). Their taste in clothes is very conservative and dull. The younger one are also dull and safe but they get away with it because they are so skinny. French women do get fat but only when they hit about forty-something (again, not the rich ones). The reason we were so obsessed by women and their clothes is because, next to the establishment of World Peace and the Eradication of Poverty, clothes/fashion/style is a matter very close to our hearts.

We got lost every day when we tried to find our way back to our hotel. Even taxi drivers couldn’t find it. One day we spend five hours trying to find our way back to the hotel. We think this is because our sub-conscious blocked out the route as part of a protective mechanism (because we despised the place so much). Next time we are going to learn to read maps before we go anywhere. We had three maps with us but they might as well have been blank paper for all the good they did us.

We also tried out one of those ‘hole-in-the-ground’ toilets while we were there. We had to dare each other to do it but in the end we had no choice as we were on a no food/high-water diet for two days (trying to get skinny, so we could buy something) and there were no other facilities around (it was at one of the ‘flea markets’). The person that used it before us obviously had a dicky tum and a bad aim but we managed to use it without catching anything. We both admitted later that we were kind of hoping to get some sort of stomach bug so we could lose some flab.

We spend a vast amount of Euros at the market and then had to cart all the bags about with us for the rest of the day. This is because we didn’t want to go back to our hotel as the place was not only depressing but the manager looked at us as if we were two sewer-rats. It’s his fault that we left the bags on the metro and never saw them again. We’re going to write to Tripadvisor to complain about him.

When we got home we kept trying to speak in French to everyone in the house. This goes to show that we lack sophistication and that we don’t get out much.

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