Although I have heard several French friends scoff at the commercialism of Christmas, elbows are out and they are all now going ape shit crazy for half price skivvies! Dear readers, we are talking about LES SOLDES! Cheap clothes are not democratic in France like in the States. They are reserved for biannual bonanza sales. As a result, all the women I see on the Metro become collectively chicer.
Although I am proud of my carefully curated flea market wardrobe and the compliments I receive on my 1€ outfits, as a rendezvous-ready creative professional, I am attempting a less worn-in look. Not the button-down type, I could not resist a very bewitching pair of black animal print corduroy skinny jeans today. At a cool 20 euros, my biggest fear wasn’t dropping the cash. It is probably that I will wear them everyday. They give me that Brigitte-Bardot-sex-kitten-on-her-day-off je ne sais quoi. Come to think of it, je sais quoi. I have forgotten the allure of truly new clothes, not requiring sanitation before use. I could get used to looking like a million bucks. A million euros even, but that all depends on the exchange rate.
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