Nov. 28.

Guess Where My New Home Is?

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!

 

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Nov. 25.

Last French Mustard Drops

If you’ve never tried French mustard, I incite you to do so. You’ll get a heads on with the peppy condiment, and from a totally different perspective. The step after will be the French pickles, ouh là là! La moutarde is a lot like this improbable country. Feisty and stubborn, but in a classy and delicate way.

I have lived here for almost a decade now. I came as a recent college graduate. Soon leaving, as a married Madame and a deeply Frenchified fashionista, loving my black and whites, lace and high heels. I’ve equally grown to appreciate rosé champagne – even though I still prefer blanc, always brut – learned how to push out a little holler if things don’t go the way promised and discovered the art of lingerie – with garter belt and stockings to the office and all.

I am feeling somewhat nostalgic, but in a good way. Our immigration papers came through and the patient waiting is no passé. Heading back to Paris and then soon hopping on the plane for some mighty hours. Our newly-found home is awaiting. The honey and I decided to treat ourselves to the deluxe class – with champagne flowing.

Art by Susu

Riviera vintage shirt and scarf; EuroDiff pants, H&M belt, Shania flats

 

 

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Nov. 21.

Stripe Shot – with Radical Self Love

I gave it a shot. Drank up the stripey concoction – succumbed to the new sweater. With a glittery touch the horizontal bands please me just fine. It took me this long to swing the trend. I was convinced that my Scandinavian childhood had insured me an overdose.

The sweater’s blue is very powerful. There are many types of azurs. I have always been a dear fan. There is poetic and peaceful blue. Then come soothing and comforting. There is also the nostalgic and longing blue. No matter how painful they may be, I actually realize that I like myself some deeper notes to life, too. They force me to grow. Give contrast. Any good painting doesn’t work without. Do you have things that you put down in you or your life? I’ve recently discovered Gala Darling’s darling site on radical self love. I am trying to embrace the true me. Just like she naturally is.

Thus, today I am feeling sturdier on my pumps. As if I had accepted a slice more of life. That today I am this kind of a person with my looks, fears, desires and anxieties. That I am doing my best – to live every day to its true value. So, dear ones, look how beautiful the Mediterranean Coast is, just before the clement winter falls!

Art by Susu

Camaïeu knit sweater, Camaïeu shirt, Etam pants, Tamaris pumps

Photos Six Fours Forest, France

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