Personal Blog Post: From the Travel Archives
My true love for writing was born in August of 2013. I was getting ready to spend the fall of my junior year in college in London, a prospect I found equally thrilling and terrifying. Someone told me I should document my travels in a blog. At the time, it was a cocktail of 2 parts therapy, 1 part creative expression, and 1 part “hi mom and dad, here’s what I’m up to.” Now, it’s a beloved sign of the times and a memorial of one of the hardest and greatest seasons of my life.
Enjoy. And remember: the 2013 statement necklace was the 2022 Lululemon belt bag. No girl left home without one.
Au Revoir, Reality
As I look back on the last four days, the absurdity of the events hits me like a load of bricks. Allow me to explain myself…
Let’s start with Thursday. Thursday was the Cinderella of all weekdays. Thursday had an early wake-up call to take care of some housekeeping details. Thursday survived on bread and water, in a sad, sad attempt at being frugal. Then Thursday’s fairy godmother arrived just in the nick of time in the form of a little black dress from Madewell (with POCKETS), black tights, and suede wedge booties, and whisked Thursday away to the ball. But not just any ball… The ball. The one that bears the oh so humble title of London Fashion Week.
Fashion Show! Fashion Show! Fashion Show at Work!
Since I’m still on a Fashion Week high, humor me for just a moment. Let’s pretend I’m some top-dog fashion journalist from Elle or Vogue or what have you (pick your poison), and I’m here to give you the super-exclusive scoop from Fashion Week, straight from the Miranda Priestlys of the world. Okay? Okay. Ahem.
Halfway through September we find ourselves making the switch from Spring/Summer into Autumn/Winter, trading flip-flops and suntans for leather boots and rosy cheeks. This season there are a few trends on the horizon that are worth checking out: sweet pinks, nature-inspired prints in earthy tones, brightly colored geometric prints, and Victorian-inspired lace. Now remember: true personal style comes from choosing the pieces and trends that work for you and fit your unique style from what the fashion deities present to the masses and incorporating them into your day-to-day.
So with that in mind, the two trends that caught my eye on Thursday were christened “Pretty in Pink” and “Victoriana.” Before you shy away from this bright and girlish hue, try to give pink a bit more credit than she is normally awarded. Pink is more versatile than you think (rhyme not intended). She might take on a more light and playful form in blush, a more deep and sophisticated rose, or anything in between. While the models donned pink from head to toe, this looked rather ridiculous if you ask me. I presume I’m not the only one to prefer pink in smaller doses, like a bold pink lip or a blush pink collared top. Or a bright pink lightweight sweater, dark wash skinnies, tall brown leather riding boots, and a sparkly statement necklace. But that’s just me today. The “Victoriana” trend also piqued my interest. A chic and polished monochromatic look, Victoriana gets her depth from the refined neutral color palette and flirts with girly lace and ruffled detailing for a bit of added flair. It’s timeless and elegant, but can still take a more scaled back air when paired with denim. So the next time you find yourself perusing the heavenly realms of fashion retail, use the free hand that’s not holding your Pumpkin Spice Latte to snatch up a few of these new runway hits.
Wasn’t that fun?
After a late night dinner at a pub near London Bridge, my girlfriends and I caught the next bus home to Kensington and slept like babies, weary from a long week of school. It was a pretty low-key weekend of some much-needed R&R. We watched a few movies, ordered takeout, and kicked back like any exhausted college student.
HA just kidding we hopped on a train to Paris for the weekend. Oh, semester abroad, you have my undivided attention.
To Paris on a Friday
Friday afternoon I frantically loaded up my extremely large and in charge backpack (naturally I was running just a tad behind schedule) and headed to King’s Cross / St. Pancras station for my first ever train ride. Apparently the rest of the world has already been on a train like a million times so the experience has lost its luster. Sad. Blessed is she who was raised on minivan road-trips for she will be impressed by train rides.
I digress.
We arrived in Paris around sunset, dropped our bags at our hotel, and took the Metro over to the Seine River for a boat tour. Now about the Metro… While taking the Tube in London makes me feel posh and cultured, taking the Metro in Paris makes me feel like I’m entering the Twilight Zone. It twists and turns and whines and you literally feel like the train will lift off the tracks. It’s a miracle I survived to blog about it.
Once we climbed the steps out of the Underground, there lay the dazzling City of Lights. At night, Paris is lit like a glorious Christmas tree and its sprawling streets are lined with looming romantic style architecture. On the boat, we caught our first glimpse of the illustrious Eiffel Tower and watched it glitter away on cue at ten o’clock sharp. Breathtaking. If you’d like to see it for yourself, I have approximately 47 shots coming from every angle. And video footage. Go big or go home.
Now nothing says “Paris” like a Nutella-filled crêpe prepared right before your eyes by a street vendor. Ah. Heavenly. It was the perfect end to our first night in the city, and a well-deserved treat after a long day of travel.
Saturday
Saturday morning we resurrected our sleepy bodies from our cozy hotel beds for a bus tour of the city. We saw a wide variety of monuments, buildings, and shops. We got a taste of home as we passed by the original model of the Statue of Liberty, which resides in the center of a lovely Parisian park as a tribute to its French designer. We marveled at luxury retailers, like Hermes, Longchamp, Louis Vuitton, and the original Cartier. (Later we returned to walk through these famed shops, only to mourn the prices that were outlandish even before the damage of the dreaded exchange rate.) We passed by locations where many famous people lived, worked, and died: the site of Napoleon’s burial, the Ritz where Coco Chanel spent her last days, and even the office of Chief Inspector Jacques Clouseau. (To my dad who raised our family on the film series starring this outrageously funny character: merci beaucoup.)
After the bus, we spent about an hour trailing through the Musée du Louvre, eyeing world-renowned sculptures, paintings, jewels, and the like. I especially loved The Wedding Feast at Cana, a depiction of Christ’s first miracle and also the largest painting in the museum, and of course, everyone’s favorite leading lady, Mona. (I’m convinced she is the inspiration behind Tyra Banks’ “smile with the eyes” mantra for her Top Models.) I am in absolute awe of the remarkable talent housed in that fantastic place. It reminded me of what a beautiful thing it is that each and every one of us has a unique and incredible talent to offer, whether we’ve discovered that talent yet or whether it is still waiting for us, buried under an X on a map. Once we find that sweet spot, that place where passion marries ability, we find magic.
After a morning of soaking in the Parisian atmosphere, lunch and caffeine were in rather high demand. We found rejuvenation at a charming café then headed out for some shopping. The streets were drenched in sunlight, casting a radiant glow on the stunning window displays. Nothing, however, could beat the glow on each of our faces following the next few moments. Our group of six American girls stepped into Michael Kors to explore the shelves of flawless handbags, wallets, and watches that we all adore. As we chatted with the friendly employees, one of them nonchalantly tossed into the conversation, “Oh and the real Michael Kors is upstairs.” As if it were a mere afterthought. As if it wasn’t the most jaw-dropping news we had heard all day. Sure enough, a few moments later, THE Michael Kors came down the stairs, dressed in a military style jacket with jeans and dark aviator shades. He looked cooler than ever. The shop-girls urged us to go meet him. Well you don’t need to tell me twice… I walked straight up to him, flashed my most winning smile, and said hello to one of New York City’s finest fashion designers. Mr. Kors was friendly and laidback, asking each of us where we were from, seemingly happy to run into a group of fans from home. We even got a picture. Ah. I was absolutely star-struck. Running into a famous fashion designer in his own store in Paris? What sweet serendipity.
We finished off the day with a sprint back to the Eiffel Tower to catch the sunset (unwanted but necessary exercise since the French seem to have only two words in their culinary vocabulary: bread and cheese). Oh that view. It couldn’t have been more worth the effort. We spent hours laughing and chattering beneath the Parisian monument, embracing our American girl status and taking more photos than is ever necessary, and making a point to just pause and be as la Tour glittered away above our smiling faces.
Sunday
As our jam-packed weekend was coming to a close, we hit the streets again Sunday morning to take full advantage of the last eight hours in Paris. First stop of the day was Notre-Dame, and we had the opportunity to walk through it during a church service. It was inspiring to see a place that I’ve always associated with people who lived hundreds of years ago still being used today for the same purpose. The enormity and intricacy of the architecture and the spectacular artwork blew me away. On a lighter note, the cathedral totally brought me back to an old cartoon that my kindergarten self was obsessed with, Gargoyles. Long live the nineties and long live my strangeness.
Next on the agenda was to visit the Lover’s Bridge. This bridge across the Seine displays a romantic tradition where couples attach a padlock to the bridge to symbolize their undying love for one another. The keys are tossed into the river, never to be seen again, while the love between the two lasts forever. Not wanting to miss out on the tradition, I made a lock for my parents, the dynamic duo that enriches my life each day. Mom and Dad, I aspire to have a love like yours someday. Your sacrificial love means more to us kids than you’ll ever know.
Last but not least on our own whirlwind Tour de France was the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs-Élysées. The Arc de Triomphe is a tribute to those who fought in the French Revolution, and it stands in solitude in the center of the Place Charles de Gaulle. Extending eastbound from the monument runs the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, a world famous Parisian street known for its cinemas, cafés, high-end shopping, and the manicured horse-chestnut trees that line either side of the avenue. It’s no secret: this lovely locale is known as “the most beautiful avenue in the world,” or as the French say, la plus belle avenue du monde. Since we already felt we were lost in a dream, we chose Häagen-Dazs as the perfect last meal in Paris. I do believe that when Audrey Hepburn said, “Paris is always a good idea,” she was referring to indulgent French desserts just as much as the magical city itself. Because why not eat ice cream and crêpes for dinner?
And with that we boarded the train and returned home to reality. Or whatever you would call this. My voice is gone, my feet are bruised, and I am completely spent after a weekend packed to the gills with activity. But my eyes have witnessed the magic of new places and glamorous experiences, and my heart is full. Au revoir, Paris. Until we meet again.
