Not So Sure about Those Chaussures

Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world.—Marilyn Monroe

Last thing I heard from our twelve year old flight captain was, “We have a 700 mile tail wind (or something; I’m not good with numbers) and will be arriving in Paris yesterday” (seems like; I’m not good with math). Suffice to say, our flight was turbulent AF (pausing here so The Husband can Google AF in Urban Dictionary and then tell me, “You’re better than that”.). 

Because of that blasted tail wind, we arrived an hour early (Read: One hour less sleep).  We schlepped four suitcases up to our 5th floor apartment and I regretted (for just a moment) my Bag o’ Shoes. Not sure what happened there, I usually pack uber light but this year, Eleventh Hour, I drug out a large suitcase and filled it with shoes. Normally, a Bag O’ Shoes is the stuff life is made of and I should’ve gone to bed in smiles. But let’s say if bad nights were a dog show, last night would’ve taken Best in Show. 

Thus, we spent today in a near zombie state walking. And walking. And walking (I’m super glad I had comfy shoes). Had lunch at a sweet one-hundred year old restaurant called Moulin de la Galette in Montmartre.

It is Paris Fashion Week—again. And once again I don’t have my “credentials” to get into any shows (Word: I need one of my friends in the fashion or media industries to be a real “friend” if you catch my meaning.) For want of actually attending any runway shows, I’m stalking anyone with a real camera, assuming them to be Paparazzi. I’m also taking pictures of any girl, tall and lanky, but have only just found out that there are many/mostly androgynous guys on this year’s cat walks. So now I have to stalk androgynous boys without making it weird.

The Husband and I are missing our Devil dog something fierce. When I’m not stalking paparazzi (funny, that) or androgynous boys/girls, I’m ogling other people’s pets and getting weepy. Our pet sitter, Dorothy, has been less than consoling. Firstly, she has a yellow dog and if there is anything Devil can live without in his lifetime it is a Damned Yella Dog. Secondly, when I asked her for reassurances I got this:img_1788

Make a wish for me, mes amis, that while logging miles on my multiple shoes, I happen to run into any of the Kardashians this week.  I’d even settle for Rob. img_0020

24 Comments

    1. Someone standing near speaking Portuguese? Or at any rate a language I don’t understand, said what I translated to mean I “should touch those boobs for luck”. Who says no to luck? Not this well cobbled girl.

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  1. You touched Dalida’s boobs!!! 🤭 Former Miss Egypt and then French gay icon! They weren’t too lucky for her as she did commit suicide! 🤕 I came in from California on Wednesday and it was also a tricky landing! Keep those comfy shoes close at hand! Paris paths make for hard plodding! Hope you’re having fun and keeping warm! Good luck finding the kardashians, although I think after their last Parisian robbery they might be still skipping Paris 🤭

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    1. Worst turbulence I’ve ever personally felt. We touched down on Thursday morning so I’m sure you and I had similar experiences. I never would have expected Paris’ weather to be the draw but it beats our weather at home this winter. I meant to find out more about the boobs. Poor Dalida! I can always count on you for the inside scoop, Damien!

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  2. I’m not so sure about those chaussures either. I suppose that’s a tattoo on that one girl’s leg, but it looks like a bruise to me. That’s because I’d have bruises all over myself if I had to wear those shoes. It sounds as if you’ve had your hands full since arriving in Paris, between the coffee woes and having to stalk skinny girls and androgynous boys. At least you haven’t been bored.

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  3. First of all, let me say that not knowing the difference between today and yesterday has nothing to do with Math. Secondly – can you really sleep on planes? Thirdly, I wish I could help you out with your fashion problems, but I am sitting here in velour sweatpants, a light blue bathrobe and a long T-shirt for sleeping in that I bought in 1985. Keep stalking those girly boys.
    PS. The one you photographed wasn’t at all androgynous. You would know that if you better in Math.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think velour is back. Also, fanny packs. I am soooo excited about the fanny pack situation. I’ve been stalking but have reached the conclusion that there are underground systems by which the pretty people are transported from here to yon because I’m not seeing many at street level. Or maybe I can’t find yon.

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