This past Wednesday was the official start of the sale season here in Paris. Apparently it’s actually illegal to mark things down before the official start of the sales. There are ads everywhere and while I’ve seen claws come out in North American department stores, the French not only have claws, but strategies…
This ‘event’ (if you can call it one,) had me both curious and afraid. Legitimate reactions considering. But instead of braving the masses, I offered to help the boyfriend out by running and errand for him at Marché Saint Pierre.
Ten minutes later I was surrounded by patterns, threads and so many colors. My mind was firing in all directions but I was mainly ruminating over this tidbit about the boyfriend that I hadn’t been privy to until now…
Yes, the boyfriend knows how to sew. He knows how to trace patterns, and create garments, bags, you name it… No matter I’m only finding this out now. He’s going to teach me! Take that angry crowds, and ‘low’ prices. I’m going to do it myself.
I quite litteraly (and willingly) stayed cooped up inside the whole first day back from my holidays in Austria. Coming home to a bustling city like Paris after having spent two weeks in the Austrian country side as well as a nearly deserted-by-day Vienna can be a bit jarring. Especially following some pretty amazing holidays, save for an unfortunate snowboarding accident that warranted an albeit fun but nonetheless bumpy ride down the Austrian mountainside in one of those blow up sleds and an ambulance trip.
So many people to fit into so few subway cars… Yes you read right. Where I might normally include some form of bicycle reference I now include one about Paris’ great public transportation system. No biking for 3 weeks. #sadface …
In the meantime I’ll revel in the memory of a staring stand off I had a few days ago with some deer (and one raindeer! legit!)