Are you contented with your year gone by? I am. It has been a period of profound changes. Early 2011, I traveled to Finland. Practiced being free around food again with cream and jam filled brioche.

My journeys choo-chooed along as I hopped on the Eurostar and whisked to London. Staying at my cousin and lovely Kate’s was an absolute treat. Hubs back home in Paris. This chick free to indulge in art and Camden vintage shopping. Yoga in the park.

Plus these chic bloggers … Sherin and Susie, in the atmosphere of the Tate Modern looking over us! Later, Stardust coffee with the vogue-cultivated Sabine. Fash’ friends forever.

Equally, I met Rita in Paris – my Aussie La Clinica organic cosmetics Business Bee and a role model – for some pink cake and beauty talk – inside out, you know me by now.

Then this fairy was off to her maman-in-law’s on the French Riviera. Some inter-generational bonding around a glass of champagne. Nicely counterbalances the sniffy saddy times that I skilfully whip myself into alike.

Meet Marie-Claire the chic sweet belle-maman of mine. I love her dearly, and have learned so much from her about Simone de Beauvoir and French bra burnings. The wedding band I proudly carry is inherited from Marie-Claire. To me it symbolizes a Frenchwoman accepting me into the circle of real life. A la française. What an absolute honneur!

Summer went enjoying Paris, knowing that soon our home would be elsewhere. Had brunches with my gals -  the crème de la strawberry crème of my Paris decade – Leesa, Sarah, Sarah and Aurelia. My sweethearts. Forever silver-tattooed on my soul.

Waved au revoirs to Paris… “am I really leaving the city now?” would ask myself for days. Stopped over in the Alps, then waited for visas on the Riviera.

Chic-hopped to Italy for some Bacardi and turquoise dress shopping.

And now… Canada! Entered the new wide open on December 1. Such a clean, clear start.

I sense a feather blown onto fresh fields. My inner world settling down. Me being able to take things with increased serenity. I have battled cramps and chest sentiments – crisping, hurting, bone aching, fist-striking sensations in the diaphragm for two and a half years now. Presently, I feel that those feelings have lessened, and I am able to better distinguish real physical sensations from somatic, panic-fed sores.

Life is swinging back into me. It never left but got teeny-tiny with me eating less and less. Controlling out of fear of being fat – meaning failure. But flesh around us is continuity. Soft curves symbolize gentleness.

My challenge for the new year: to let my imperfections come out as well. So that I no longer have to beat myself up on them so intensely. Beauty is in real, honest life. Speaking in true terms. If I open up, I believe that I can inspire others to do the same. W e can be wondrous and humanly blemished at the same time, non?

This is it. The end of an era. My Paris years are soon history. I leave The City with utter affection. Friendships tied, work situations sighed and laughed through, marrying Mr. French Right, biking under the Eiffel Tower, lingering in the parks – getting busted once for an open champagne bottle, oops – eating out on my beloved Seine River Boat. I have snooped through every corner of Paris, studied every alley. I wanted, needed and longed. And now, just like at the end of Sex and the City the Movie, maybe there will be a new, freshly-out-of-college girl arriving in Paristown. I wish her luck. I leave her the magic place. To you. To all us all. Because no matter what, remember “we’ll always have Paris”.

Thus on Wednesday we hop on the plane and land somewhere where we now long, and hopefully belong, too. Time shall tell. I love you all dearly. I will be back here when ever possible. I do not for now. Paris kisses, the last and the dearest ones!

I have just left the love of my life. One of them. The city of chic, dear Paris. I bobbed up to the Coco Chic Town as a newly graduate, courageously step-by-stepping my life up, starting from a tiny rooftop studio apartment. I met my Frenchie, got married and fell under a frantic fashion spell.

In all honesty, Paris is as much a honeyed as a hard place to evolve in. So many (sometimes only) seemingly wondrous, going-to-places folks rush over for glamorous fashion get-togethers. One needs to be extra strong to keep on believing in The Magnificent You. No matter what the pumps you’re wearing. Or the body shape you’re rocking.

My next stop is in the Alps. I am nostalgic, yet feel like a new, more laid-back page could be spreading out. Life has me wait at this moment. Before the Sweets and I can change countries. Things out of my control need to come together. Staying here and now – still – my lesson to learn for now.

Hugs to you dear cupcakes. Thank you for being there. Sending love.

NafNaf leather jacket, EuroDif pants, Lindex hat, Andiamo city sneakers

Photos from The Arch of Triumph, Paris

These are my Parisian sweet hearts. As dulcet as pop tarts. May I present (from left to right above) – Leesa, Sarah, Sarah, me and Aurelia. This was a gals’ Sunday lunch get-together. Le Paradis du Fruit the place was named and ambrosial time did we sure have. After nine Parisian fun-filled years I can draw the bottom line and say to myself that I have been lucky to find some wondrous pieces of gold. Friendships to last for a lifetime.

Now my route shall divert. I will be leaving the Fashion City sometime soon. A new continent. A new life. A new beginning. Lots to organize. Nerves to master. Just to stay sweet and chic.

Here is how the best collection – my subjective view bien sûr – rocks fuchia. Go Gucci! This season I am twisting the Italian way. It is always a dash tricky when residing in Paris. Over here, they love to tease the pasta-biters. Tender neighborhood love, I’d say. In the photos you see my two best Parisian gals Sarah and Sarah. Isn’t it funny that I’ve made friends with the same named ladies? Especially after they tell me that it isn’t a common first name in our generation.

Nine years in the city of chic have flown by so fast. This is a magic place. So many things going on at the same time. Fashion weeks pushing in… like this year’s – right as we speak! Glasses raised to that!

Art by Susu

Helsinki vintage top, Riviera vintage blouse, Camaieu skirt, Shania ballet flats

Photos from the Luxembourg Gardens, Paris