Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens

It's not easy being a big girl in Paris, home of the house of Dior, Chanel, and Louis Vuitton. Of course even if I could afford a 2000 Euro cashmere coat, the reality is I couldn’t fit into it. After losing more than 30lbs, I still barely fit into a European XL. This is probably a good thing, as my poor impulse control and new-found love of fashion might send us to the poor house—or divorce court...

Maybe my nascent love of shoes was inevitable. After all, when I need a fashion fix, my choices are limited to accessories.   Consequently, I am amassing quite a collection of scarves, hats, and bags.  Of course, my budding addiction could be genetic.  Last summer, I counted over 70 pairs of shoes in my mother’s closet.  The good news is that they were all bought for pennies at the Goodwill and Salvation Army.  The bad news? This was the closet in her den—I didn’t dare count the many pumps, sandals, and espadrilles which filled the bottom of her bedroom armoire.

If, like me, you are a fan of “Sex and the City”, you are no doubt aware of the main character’s Manolo Blahnik obsession—one which lead our hero to spend 40k on impossibly high heeled strappy sandals and Mary Jane pumps.  I never “got” Carrie's fixation with Blahniks. Five hundred dollars for a pair of pumps? After 5 months in Paris, I am beginning to understand.  For some people, shoes are like drugs and nice shoes, well they might as well be crack cocaine.  Fortunately, I don’t have a cocaine budget—mine is more like that of whacky tabacky.  I covet the Prada. I buy the BCBG.

Every January and July, a city-wide sale called “Les soldes” takes place in Paris.  Everywhere you turn, windows are filled with banners announcing 30! 40! 50! % reductions!  Parisians come out en masse to shop; tourists fly in just for the deals. It is crazy and very easy to get caught up in the Chaos and Consumerism.  More than once, I actually thought it was a good thing that I couldn’t fit into the clothes here. How screwed up is that? Of course is was a truly dark day when I tried on a pair of shoes that I had been coveting before the sales only to find out that my trotters were prohibitively porcine.  Imagine my embarrassment upon realizing that I couldn’t buckle the strap! I hope no one saw.

Of course when it comes to shopping, I’m no quitter.  I spent a day at the soldes and came home with several pairs of shoes.

Maybe one day I will fit into a size 40, until then, I will continue to “lick the windows” at Armani, Burberry, and Max Mara and content myself with trying on shoes--my new favorite things.