Spring In Paris, June 9th

For me there is something exceptionally dreamy about Paris. I think the idea was planted after my parents’ first trip there. When they came home, my Mother was just so taken by the experience that each time she even whispered the word “Pahhhrisss” it was a breathy sigh, her eyes were closed and her hand was over her heart. She was indeed smitten. I couldn’t wait to go my first time to see, hear, feel, touch and taste all that The City of Light had to offer. Not only was I not disappointed, I think The Mothership undersold, because Paris overdelivered. And if you’ve never been a fan before, check out this picture I took myself that is not retouched at all. C’mon. How can you not be impressed with this monumental photo!

Everyone knows that spring in Paris is just divine. And I actually visited once in April. The weather was sunny and mild. The trees were full. The flowers were blooming. It was glorious. But the truth is that any time of year in this magical city is just fine with me. And because of work commitments, my yearly pilgrimage has been the month of November these last three years. So I’d just resigned myself to the fall facts of murky weather, cool temps, lots of rain but bonus– hardly any tourists. Until now…

I was so fortunate to have a business trip to Paris this year. And lucky me it was in June! June of sunshine and flowers. June when parks are full of lush trees and big picnicking crowds. And packing was so much easier. Little to no layering clothes were needed and certainly no hat, scarf, glove combos. Wow. How great!

Everyone who has been to Paris, frequented France, considers themselves a Francophile or has never stepped one foot onto the wonderful shores of the Seine has something to say about it. And some people have no idea what they are talking about!

There are lovers, diehards and absolute haters. My tagline is that Paris is my favorite city, but New York is my home. Why do I have to declare just one winner? Can’t we be inclusive and make extra categories for joy? Good ol’ Ernie Hemingway had a similar sentiment when describing Paris…

Having been more than a few times now, I was anxious to return, but the June trip was just for a week. It sounds funny to say JUST FOR A WEEK when you’re talking about traveling overseas. But when you are used to a whole month there with both work and personal time mixed in, cramming the best of the best into a few short days presented a challenge. A week long trip sounds amazing and lux (which of course it is) but it was for work, so all of my time was not my own. And when you factor in the jet lag and travel days, I had an incredible amount of running around to pack into just a few short PTO days. So I had to pick my absolute favorites and keep my schedule tight if I was to visit, admire and indulge in all the items on my long list. And you know me– I am always an ambitious planner.

But I didn’t want to rush through anything either. The small delights– like the first bite of a crunchy, well buttered baguette, the view of the setting sun over the Seine, and the happy but laborious heave ho of pretty Parisian packages containing covetable European goods hauled onto my shoulder are life changing moments I wanted to savor. The thought of it all made me giddy!

Sidebar your Honor? Let’s just pause here for a moment to discuss the absolute Hermès craze. It’s always been a luxury destination but the last few months have seen a major uptick in the amount of new traffic, complete insanity over the Birkin and Kelly bags, and dupes up the wazoo from resellers on Walmart and Amazon. (Hello, Wirkin!)

Even candlemakers have cashed in on the hype. And you can’t help but laugh at the entitled attitude displayed so perfectly on this angry candle. I love it!

And so of course AI designers are reimagining a flagship Hermès store too. If only!

And I hear folks in my tribe are fantasizing about a Birkin holiday line. Now that would be the reason this night is different from all other nights, right? I bet everyone, especially the gals, would look for that afikomen. Hell, I know I would! Amen to that.

But tourists to Paris know there are countless fabulous fancy stores, haute haunts, local faves and hidden gems to choose from. Hermès is just one option and getting a leather appointment from the lottery system unique to Paris is just as unlikely as being disappointed in the buttery croissants at La Maison d’Isabelle– we all know it just ain’t happening. So it’s best to branch out. You’re not exactly slumming it with a new Chanel. Am I right??

But remember that the prices are more gentle than back home, and with the VAT back at the airport, you are definitely saving more than a few euros– and in some cases more than a thousand, even with the crappy exchange rate! Staggering but true. However, these fancy frocks and crock accessories don’t come cheap to begin with. These are all pretty major purchases. But if you’re pulling the trigger anyway (good for you) it definitely makes sense to splurge in Europe rather than pay more for the same item in the States.

I’m so fortunate that Michael is an interested consumer. He’s not the typical male shopper who visits a single department store twice a year to replace basic golf shirts or sits in the husband corral on his phone while I go wilding. He actually enjoys the casual looking and the heart racing hunt, and of course the slomo weekend browse. I’m happy to accompany him to all of his stores and scan all his departments for take home treasures, and he’s super happy meandering through all of my faves looking for new loves, too. We enjoy shopping synchronicity. How lucky am I??

The benefit of so many trips to Paris is that I have learned a few things. Like I’m never again schlepping home butter from France. And here’s why. Before my 2024 fall homebound flight I bought, froze, and vacuum sealed butter bricks and stuffed them into my checked bag. (Yes, I’ve done this before without incident.) And then that Delta stowaway gal was on my flight causing a four hour delay. Adding that to the already long overseas journey and waiting time, the day was exhausting for me and apparently for my luggage. When I finally arrived home, I was completely spent and my butter had the same reaction– it was a sad puddle of suspended yellow goo. So no, never again. The imported fancy French butter from Zabar’s will just have to suffice!