October 26, 2014
October 13, 2014
October 6, 2014
October 3, 2014
September 29, 2014
There are the French and then there are the Parisians. There really is a big difference between the two.*
Now of course, I don't (currently) live in Paris, but after spending a considerable amount of time there over the last few years, and especially in the last couple of months, I know that I will never be and probably could never be une vrai Parisienne.
And I'm ok with that.
Here are some of the reasons why:
1) I will never be able to master "the pout" properly
2) I don't own the requisite sequined Vanessa Bruno cabas
3) I don't like to lie in the sun
4) I never order un Perrier menthe
5) I'm (usually) way too punctual
6) I don't smoke
7) I can't find a shade of red lipstick that suits me
8) I'm terrified to ride a bike in Paris
9) I can't get my hair into that messy yet elegant updo (but I wish I could!)
10) I wasn't born there
Sometimes when I see young Parisian women walking down the street or sitting in a café, it looks like they are trying oh so very hard to exude an aura of perfection. They pose and pout and keep their movements in check. Just watching them exhausts me.
I'm much happier embracing my imperfect, unfashionable, smiling, clumsy self. I may be French, but I doubt anyone will ever look at me and think that I am une Parisienne. Which is kind of a relief.
* That's a subject that warrants its own blog post, so please just trust me on this