I have to pause in between my tales of Sicily to share my weekend in Paris for Fashion Week. It wasn’t as epic as for those that were involved, but it was still incredibly cool to be there.
I had work meetings on Thursday and Friday and my meetings on Friday afternoon were right in the heart of the action. The women and men walking along the street and in and out of buildings looked like moving pieces of art. And I guess that is what fashion essentially is – art. I was mad at myself in retrospect for not being braver to whip out my phone and start snapping photos, but I was also trying to blend in – act like maybe I was supposed to be there too. 🙂
Friday night I had dinner with one of my best friend’s, Sara, and because all of Paris was sold out in terms of hotels for the events, I stayed with her. After dinner, we tried heading to the very famous Raspoutine night club. Sara and I found ourselves standing outside in a mingle with many gorgeous women. The only reason I could tell they weren’t models is because they were my height. But it didn’t take long before the models started flooding in – one tall, long-limbed beauty after another, waltzing right into the club. It’s like the crowd of people opened up as though we were the red sea parting for Moses.
And then the ultimate sighting – a celebrity. Kanye West to be exact. He walked right past me into the club, almost as if in slow motion, and paparazzi came out of nowhere, like fruit flies in your kitchen. “Where the hell did you come from?” I found myself saying, out loud, when what I really should have been yelling was “Kanye! Over here! CHI-TOWN! I’m from Chicago TOO!!” Oh well. Maybe next time….
And that was just Friday.
Saturday, Sara and I headed down to the Tuileries to try and spot fashion people and take our own set of fashion photos. I of course couldn’t leave Zurich without my new Celine Bag as that was the only thing that made me look remotely plausible as a fashion person.
We had fun – sitting in the sun, watching bloggers have photographers take photo after photo of them to get the perfect shot – it was another world.
My friend Sara kept making me laugh – anytime she saw anyone wearing “sensible” shoes she’d whisper “Editor. That’s an editor.” This wasn’t her first rodeo.
So what did I wear when scouting the scene? Nothing too fancy, in reality, because I had limited space in my suitcase. However…
It was a start. You can never go wrong with black on black, just ask Karl Lagerfeld.
The rest of my weekend was spent leisurely enjoying my favorite city. As much as one might think all of Paris revolves around Fashion Week, it simply isn’t true. Life outside was as fabulous as I had always known it – pain au chocolat, coffee outside in the sun, flirty French men, old ladies and their tiny dogs, and artists with their paint brushes.
With or without fashion week, one never knows what adventures Paris has in store…