I do feel a little bad deserting Sørkedalen this Høst ferie as I had planned on watching the leaves change colours, take long walks in the forest with my husband and children but, Paris suddenly called and the next thing I knew I was booking a mother & daughter trip. We’re leaving tomorrow.
To be honest, and please don’t tell my husband: I’m finding it really hard to conceal my excitement.
I’m also panicking a little as with every year that has passed since moving to Norway, I have been reading more novels than geo-political bulletins, which my Parisian friends will find quite tasteless, the height of heels have gotten lower and lower which will totally kill my street-cred and, horror of horrors I now look cheerful and healthy: read fat.
That’s the number of hours I have left and the number of crucial steps I need to complete to revive my inner Parisienne.
Step 1: boring
I’m reading up quickly about French politics and the latest literary events…Believe it or not that is actually what we Parisiennes talk about when you see us laughing away at the terrace of
La Palette or Les Deux Magots.
The cafés legendary reputations, began with writers, philosophers and artists like Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, Vladimir Nabokov, Simone de Beauvoir, Jean-Paul Sartre, Pablo Picasso, Albert Camus, and Bertolt Brecht sitting there for hours, discussing life and smoking millions of unfiltered cigarettes.
But honestly: on those café terraces, my friends and I will use the first five minutes checking that we’re both suitably up-to-date with politics and cultural news so that we can elaborate, without any sense of guilt, about what we really care about: shopping.
My friend and owner of La Palette, Jean-François, serving his customers
Step 2: feeling all girlie
I am packing my Parisienne essentials: namely my bottle of L’Heure Bleue perfume by Guerlain, my jeans, a tailored trench coat, a new pair of impossibly high loafers, some scratchy, but ridiculously pretty underwear which might show just a little under my plain white shirt, my Jackie O. sunglasses which I intend to be wearing at all times, regardless of the weather, and of course, a hot evening dress: always be prepared.
Step 3: Mirror mirror
The true Parisienne doesn’t smile much: It looks frightfully provincial.
No one visiting Paris is immune to the magnificence of this city. Tourists all go to bed smiling and all wake up smiling.
We Parisians, who were born into this daily splendour, take pride in pretending we are completely ‘blasé’ and practice our bored look in the mirror everyday.
I can’t slim down in 24 hours but, if I manage to look bored, then I won't look too cheerful and who knows, I might not even look as 'healthy'.
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