Notes From Paris

So, it's been a while since the first post but in my defense I have to say that since my roommates and I have moved in we've endured a series of apartment mishaps including but not limited too: power outages, unbearably squeaky bunk beds, doors that will not shut or open, doors without locks, keys that do not open doors, lights that mysteriously turn off, and finally... Internet that was installed and then promptly quit working. The past two weeks I've been slumming it in cafes around the greater Shattuck area in search of wireless Internet and the perfect iced white mocha. I simply keep repeating to myself the amount of our incredibly low rent like a mantra that will keep me afloat "$475 a month, $475 a month, $475 a month...". Now that I've finally begun to settle in I have decided that it's time to take a moment to reflect on my Parisian escapades so here it goes:

You can imagine the amazing amount of people/fashion watching I did and had I had more guts and better language skills I would have taken photographs of everyone I saw to put up here. Unfortunately, it is a bit rough explaining to a non-English speaking stranger that you would like to post a picture of them on the Internet without crossing some sort of global boundary from friendly stranger to touristic stalker. So instead I will contribute my latest nugget of wisdom that I came to realize while wedged between loud seventies prints at a vintage stand in a flea market in Paris. My friends and I were combing through racks of vintage dresses when Taylor came across an amazing turquoise dress with a rose pattern, deep pockets, a full skirt, a sweetheart neckline and a criss-crossed back complete with buttons (as pictured above next to a beautiful Parisian fountain). When she tried it on and came out from behind the flimsy curtain dressing room it was clear that it fit perfectly...it was made for her!!! It only took me a few minutes to find my dress from within the chaos, a black wispy silk dress with a gold rose pattern, loose top, fitted waist, and collarless neckline. After we haggled both dresses down to 20 Euro (and I bought a pair of purple suede ankle boots) and left happy I realized what it is that I love so much about vintage shopping: it is the process of finding your perfect match in clothing form. Like finding the perfect boy, you can't just go pick out a generic type (or size), you have to try on a whole bunch before you find one that looks as if it was made for you. There's something about struggling through a line-up of funky hit and miss dresses and tops (or boys!) until you find the special one that hugs you perfectly. For a reasonable price you get a dress that no one else will have and for that reason I cherish my mismatched collection of house-wife fifties and go-go seventies dresses. I have to admit I've developed a relationship with the elderly lady who owns the local vintage store in my hometown and she regularly gives me discounts because of my frequent visits. Nothing can cure the no-boyfriend blues like sifting through mountains of floral patterns, dainty gloves, veiled hats, and old belts until I find an item that falls under the soul mate category more so than my ex-boyfriend ever did!