Walking around in our summertime clothes…

The best part about the weather heating up is the complete shedding of all sartorial grey.    I have recently taken a liking to the 86 bus, which crosses smack dab in the middle of Paris.  It keeps me more in tune with the colors and dynamics of the city, unlike the zombie slog fest of the Metro.  I can attest that lIterally overnight, the boots and parkas transformed into vivid color, legs, and fluid trails of fabric.  It’s not even just the girls with their sheer tops and microshorts, even the chic little old ladies are sporting a little shoulder.   Although I was scolded at an apero last weekend for sporting bare legs (“T’as pas froid? T’es sûre?”), Paris has officially begun its season of pleasantry.  And it’s just one big communal sigh of relief.

Happy 2012! I apologize for being a bit absent.  Since I last wrote, there was a wedding, a trip to New York, a honeymoon holiday in Nice, and many trips to the Prefacture de Police.  As of today, I have my residence permit, which means I will be bureaucracy-free for the next 9 months!  (Unless I decide to apply for a bank account, a library card, a masters program, leave my apartment.  Wait a minute…)  I wish I could celebrate by torching the rainforest of paperwork I have accumulated the last few months while singing ‘J’ai Deux Amours’ at the top of my lungs.  But alas, from now on I need to adopt the ‘French touch’ of maintaining a color coordinated bureaucracy binder.

Paris is cooling down.  Although my style integrates fairly well, I’m inevitably challenged to layer gracefully.  I’ve noticed on the streets, many women deal with either a ‘doudoune’, a duvet of a jacket or carefully calculated cashmere layers.  Me, I have a few chunky long, wool sweaters that I wear under either a camel jacket or my wool vintage herringbone blazer.  However, this recently backfired.  Case in point, on a quick trip to the local health insurance office, after I taking a number, I was quickly ushered by the hostess to a chair because I was mistaken as being ‘enceinte’ or with child.  Bundling up should not be mistaken for a bundle of joy.  “EXCUSEZ-MOI!!!” I gasped.  “JE SUIS PAS ENCEINTE!!!” The hostess was just as mortified as I was.  (Take that, bitch!)  Half-hearted apology unaccepted, I walked out of there forever mortified.  Maybe it is time to swear off my dear chunky knits.  Maybe it is time to lay off the fromage.  And maybe an Hermes Kelly Bag would certainly solve all of my problems…

White by Wang

I got a little too hasty after Tuesday’s posting.  After following up on visa paperwork in the morning, I had a little time to kill before work.  Where else could I celebrate the wedding excitement other than David’s Bridal!  Now for those readers overseas or those not familiar with David’s Bridal, it was the epitome of middleclass, Midwestern elegance in my 5th-grade mind. Growing up in the city of Chicago, David’s Bridal had the mystique of something only found in suburban strip malls.  Although I am a chick, I am not the type of girl who has obsessed over planning my wedding since the days I thought David’s Bridal was haute chic. Hence, that’s what inspired my first stop on the wedding trail.  As someone with no budget, no set date, and no idea of what I am seeking out in a wedding dress, I figured I would start my search generically at David’s Bridal.

And generic is more or less what I got.  However, Vera Wang is producing a very urbane and modestly priced collection for the bridal chain, White by Vera Wang.  Every designer has attempted to design for the masses these days; last time I checked, she was unfortunately designing mattresses at Kohl’s.  But thanks to Vera, I didn’t need to try on any pieces from the strapless taffeta graveyard surrounding her collection at David’s Bridal.  I tried on a very demure ivory, v-necked, a-line gown with appliquéd lace on net. And heck, at $800, if I had money, I might be able to afford it!  The second gown was an ivory, one-shouldered, drop waist satin gown with a cascade of organza “flanges”.  This was definitely more in my world.  Although this dress was a little more formal than the modest courthouse affair our big day might become, I learned a few things from the experience.  I want to look more fashion than bridal!   And I never knew it before, but ivory is much better on me than white.  All things considered, although I had a pleasant trip to the bridal factory, my heart belongs to all things vintage!  And the search must go on!