All posts filed under: paris

france's best antique show

A Look at the Foire de Chatou

  Last weekend, we went out to Chatou for the Foire de, an annual gathering of some of France’s best and most expensive antique dealers. It’s definitely the sort of fair that’s more about inspiration than buying stuff — I saw pieces there that cost twice or even three times as much as what I’d seen at the Porte de Vanves flea market literally three hours earlier. So — that’s not ideal. But if you’re, you know, “in the market to dream,” this is (cough) heaven on Earth! It goes through Sunday. See more about it here!  

Paris: This Week in Instagram

My favorite caption (photo #8): “After a short nice summer, that depressive season begins. After all, Paris is almost all the time either cloudy or rainy throughout the year. That’s why Parisians get unpleasant like me.” 1. After being away for so long, I found myself drawn to iconic spots. A photo posted by MODE & THE CITY (@daphnemodeandthecity) on Sep 6, 2016 at 3:52am PDT 2. A photo posted by Richard Street (@_richardstreet_) on Sep 6, 2016 at 5:00am PDT 3. Like I said, iconic. A photo posted by T O P S H O T L I F E 📸🔥 (@topshotlife) on Sep 6, 2016 at 4:55am PDT 4. This looks like a very well-organized brocante to me. A photo posted by F r a n c e s c a V i g n a (@rummageroom) on Sep 6, 2016 at 4:32am PDT 5. A photo posted by Romy Yedidia (@romyedidia) on Sep 6, 2016 at 4:20am PDT 6. A photo posted by @yu____z on Sep 6, 2016 at 4:08am PDT 7. …

The 100-Year-Flood

In terms of localized natural disasters, I prefer a blizzard, ideally one that requires early departures from work on Thursday afternoons and necessitates a day off on Friday. At least while the snow still falls, and as long as you don’t have to work/drive/do anything during it, a blizzard in New York City is a beautiful thing. I have only experienced one earthquake in San Francisco, which was very fun, very small, and very confusing. In 2012, I spent three weeks in Switzerland, hiking and eating Swiss cheese (LOL) that came out of a plastic container. I flew home the night before Hurricane Sandy, having judged (erroneously) that it would be better to be close to my family in case things turned difficult. (Question: What’s worse than three people in the course of a hurricane? Four people!) I always take pictures of the skyline coming into JFK — how can you not? — but that night I took many, many pictures of the Long Island beaches below us: The waves were already starting to rise. In its smallest spaces, nature is humbling and awe-inspiring — …

Je T’Ecoute

Every Sunday I’m in Paris, even if I’m only there for a couple days, I try to go to Franglish, the non-sexual language-instruction speed-dating-style event I have mentioned here previously, in which you’re paired off with a French speaker and take turns speaking in the two languages. I love Franglish even if it always, inevitably ends with two language learners with their head in their hands, their brains about to explode from 90 minutes of trying to explain themselves in unfamiliar words. Here’s how my most recent Franglish ended: I tried to tell Romain, the architect I was paired off with last (after the 19-year-old French girl who said she’d returned to France from the U.S. to be with her boyfriend but that he worked all the time so now she used Tinder to make friends, to which my puritanical, American self responded: “Friends? Really?”). He had said he liked to draw, so I told him to send me an email if he put his drawings on a website: “Oh hey if you get a website let me …

how to rent an apartment in paris

How to Rent an Apartment in Paris (For Most of Us)

1: Airbnb 2: I want to be clear: I am not a victim. When your biggest problem is that you can’t find an apartment with a southern exposure and parquet floors in Paris—your biggest problem is pretty fucking small. That said, I can, with authority, say that finding an apartment in Paris was one of the most exhausting, frustrating, infuriating things I’ve ever gone through. I would not wish it on my worst enemy, and I would move to Mozambique before doing it again. My story: As I’ve discussed here previously, it makes sense for me to rent an apartment there. In the past, I’ve subletted. Sublets are easy to find, and relative to the two housing markets I know best—San Francisco and New York—they are ridiculously inexpensive. You can sublet an apartment here for under $800 a month. Maybe not in the 6th, but it’s a small city, and the cheaper apartments are in the more-fun neighborhoods, so everything works out. But then I got tired—of moving every 3 to 6 to 12 months, shuttling my stuff …

dudes like me more the dumber i am

Dudes Like Me More the Dumber I Am

I was eating a burrito and wondering if anyone else had noticed that the Best Picture nominees were the stories of, like, a half-dozen white guys and Martin Luther King (at least we know where the bar is set for the non-white guy portion of the population) when I came across this story: Apparently guys are less interested in confident ladies. And it got me thinking. Typically I might not have much to add to this particular discussion—except for the fact that I recently took a deep dive, shall we say, into the world of French real estate. For what seemed like a Captain Ahab-looking-for-Moby Dick amount of time, I went and looked at French apartments. All kinds of apartments, with bathrooms in the bedrooms and canal views and weird  carpeting and one with a bathroom so big, and a shower stall so small, that I just kept saying that I could use the extra space to rear pigs, which I’m sure endeared me to the realtor to absolutely no end. Returning to the point: What was interesting …

are parisians rude

Are Parisians Rude?

The question I am asked most often: “But aren’t Parisians so rude?” There is no good way to answer this question. My personal belief is that all people are kind in roughly the same way. Once I went for a walk between two small French villages, and one of the pathways between them was a narrow country road. A woman stopped her car and asked if I needed a ride, or some help. I told her thank you, but no—I was taking a walk. (Actually what I said was, “Thank you but no am walk now.”) That same day, I saw a mother carrying a child drop a packet of tissues on the metro floor, and another woman picked them up and ran down two corridors to return them. It’s the same sort of thing you’ll see in New York or San Francisco or Tokyo or any other place where humans exist: In my experiences as a traveler, people are kind more often than not. That said. That said. I have also found that unhappy …

expat life france

Is It Worth It: The Realities of Life As An Expat in France

I wrote this, a consideration of life as an expat in France, before yesterday’s insanity:  It’s still worth it, living in a strange, unfamiliar place. What living abroad part-time teaches you—besides how to say “I don’t understand” and “Where is the bathroom” in the language of every country you visit—is that people are essentially the same, and that people are essentially good, Hobbes (and current events) be damned. If you’ve been thinking about journeying overseas and this news has you rethinking your plans, this is not a reason to retreat. If anything, this is a reason to learn, to listen, to explore and to celebrate as much of the world around us (and far from us, and everything in between) as we can.  Back to the regularly scheduled post:  I once worked at a magazine called Lucky, and the week before the one Christmas I worked there, the editorial staff went to lunch together. After I don’t know how long of tortured office holiday lunch chat, someone suggested that everyone name the favorite job they’d ever …