I’ve realized that Paris is slowly getting into my veins. It started this summer when I noticed that I was wearing an obscene amount of black (considering I’m a freelance musician and black is our uniform—is a lot). I felt the need to wear heels grocery shopping. Then it was how I ate; ordering wine during lunch and a coffee afterwards and I wanted cheese for desert. Plus I now eat continental style.
But then it was one rainy Saturday, coming gout of the metro, my shoe broke. I didn’t feel embarrassed or ran to buy another pair, I walked (the best I could) with confidence. The Parisian woman has poise that gives them the entitlement to live in Paris. To walk the streets with A-list movie stars, or dine at the same brasserie as business moguls do.