|The window at Colette, 213 Rue St. Honore|
We got back from Paris a week ago today. And I am still living in the dream. (Seeing "Midnight in Paris" is a very effective cure for the I-wish-I-was-still-in-Paris blues.) It was a great trip. My Auntie, Uncle Ron and I ate deliciously rich dinners, ridiculously rich desserts and drank ambrosia-like wines. In between our restaurant indulgences we shopped and people-watched. First on my retail list was a visit to Colette, a super cool designer mash-up of high fashion, make-up, books, magazines, music and trinkets. But while it is lovely and exciting to be up close to Rodarte, Lanvin, Chanel and Christopher Kane, one item was more than our entire travel budget. We oohed and ahhed until we were parched and retired to a little cafe right across the street from Colette for a pression. It was there we discovered we had front row seats to fabulous fashion show of passersby.
|Hard to take your eyes off that face.|
When I saw a cool person and outfit I would leap from my cafe chair, chase them down, point to my camera and in pitiful french ask if I could take their photo. To my surprise, people were very happy to pose for pictures. Delighted in fact. Only one person said no because he was "under contract".
|Crazy, but it works on them!|
|Blackest black with beautiful textures.|
|Fleurs de St. Honore. Casual and chic.|