Ver-Sigh

wrap dress, mini backpack, versailles outfit

When: April 25 // Weather: 60s and cloudy // Real life: Day 5 in Paris (and Versailles)

wrap dress, mini backpack, versailles outfit

wrap dress, mini backpack, versailles outfit

wrap dress, mini backpack, versailles outfit

wrap dress, mini backpack, versailles outfit

It’s only appropriate that immediately after the best day in Paris came the worst day in Paris. But to be clear, our worst day in Paris still beat most days anywhere else. Day 5 was no slouch, for sure. We got up super early to catch our 8:30 bus to Versailles. That was when I realized there was at least one thing I missed about America – giant cups of drip coffee. Mmmmmm.

What can I say about Versailles? There is just no way to comprehend how huge and over-the-top it is until you’re there, and even then, you don’t get to see every corner of the house and gardens. It’s absolutely insane. It was a little chilly for walking around outside with bare legs, but I had brought this dress specifically for the day we went to Versailles and the ballet, and dammit I was going to wear it.

We got back to the city around noon and hit up a museum that wasn’t on our original itinerary, the Musée de l’Orangerie. (When you’re on your dream vacation, you get to make your own rules and change them as you go along.) I’m so glad we went, because it was lovely, and I finally was able to convince Kristin that Monet wasn’t just a dude with a paintbrush and bad eyesight. Next we did a little shopping at Sézane, where I wanted to buy everything but managed to pick just one thing. I deserved to be rewarded for that, don’t you think? Perhaps with a fancy drink at Bar Hemingway? Yes, definitely.

Bar Hemingway used to be Cole Porter’s hangout – along with (obviously) Hemingway – so it only seemed right for us Hoosiers to visit and pay homage. It’s a really cool spot, and the drinks are all served with an actual live rose. When you find out how much the drinks cost, the rose makes perfect sense.

After our fancy cocktails, we rushed over to the Opera Bastille because we had tickets to see the Paris ballet perform Romeo & Juliet. I was so excited. I’ve been a dancer my whole life, but I always spent more time in ballet class than seeing actual professional ballets. Seeing one of my favorite art forms in the city I’ve always dreamed of visiting? I mean, what could be more perfect?

I’m really building this up for you, so you can see where it’s going.

We got to the theater, and the person who greeted us said something in French that I didn’t quite understand. Then, when he saw our blank expressions, he said, “do you want your money back?” More blank expressions. “There is no show tonight. There was a technical incident.” I listened while he explained there was one line for refunds and one line for exchanges, then I turned to Kristin and just started weeping like a damn baby in the middle of the lobby. I probably should have been embarrassed, but I’ll never see any of those people again, so who cares. I was sad.

We waited in line for about an hour to exchange our tickets for the following day, even though they told us that performance would probably be cancelled too (spoiler alert: it was). It took me that whole hour to recover, at which point all I wanted was a cozy sweatshirt and a big dessert. And since we make the rules (other than the rules about when the ballet happens), that’s exactly what I got. I bought a cheesy Paris sweatshirt from one of those shops with rainbow-colored plastic Eiffel Towers, I put it on immediately, and we walked down the street to a café and had wine and a lot of chocolate.

The happier version of this story is: I saw a beautiful mansion, went shopping, looked at art, had a cocktail in the 1920s, ate chocolate, and wore a cute dress. Like I said, a bad day in Paris is still a great day.

Dress // similar Earrings // similar Backpack // Shoes*

*Shoes purchased with gift card provided courtesy of Shopbop.

Best Day Ever

Paris tourist, Eiffel tower, Chuck Taylors

When: April 24 // Weather: 60s // Real life: Day 4 in Paris

Paris tourist, Eiffel tower, Chuck Taylors

Paris tourist, Eiffel tower, Chuck Taylors

Paris tourist, Eiffel tower, Chuck Taylors

Paris tourist, Eiffel tower, Chuck Taylors

Paris tourist, Eiffel tower, Chuck Taylors

Should I say it? I’m gonna say it: Day 4 was my favorite day in Paris! The rest of the days were amazing, but Day 4 was amazing plus. I mean, it’s hard to beat a day that ends with sitting in front of the Eiffel Tower watching the sun go down, a baguette in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. I really committed to this vacation, you guys.

We started out in Saint Germain. Yes, again. It was just too cute! We had breakfast at Les Deux Magots, which is famous for being a favorite spot of many important intellectuals (most recently, me). I remember reading L’Etranger in high school French class and realizing “wait…I think I’m an existentialist!” and now I’ve had a croissant at the same place as Camus.

Next up: SHOPPING DAY. I know, how predictable that the shopping day was my favorite day, but that’s just how it worked out. I got a new perfume at L’Artisan Parfumeur, which was a gosh darn delight. All those people who say the French are rude are apparently visiting a different Paris, because I had nothing but good interactions. I told the girl at the perfume store what I liked and she pulled a bunch of options out for me to sample, then encouraged me to try on my 2 favorites, leave the store for a little while, and come back. Obviously, I came back. (After visiting Karl Lagerfeld down the street. That mans loves his cat almost as much as he loves his own face.)

We took a break for lunch at Angelina, which was Coco Chanel’s favorite spot back in the day. Then of course we visited the original Chanel store at 31 Rue de Cambon. I got a new lipstick! Then it was time for…the purchase. The big purchase.

I decided a while back that when I finally made it to Paris, I would buy myself a designer handbag. I saved up my money for it, because I don’t have that kind of cash lying around on a regular basis. I settled on Saint Laurent and did a little research on my options ahead of time, but I decided to make the final decision in the moment. It was a little more exciting that way. Plus, they give you champagne while you shop, so I had to stall a little, ya know? 😉

I walked out a lot poorer, but totally satisfied with my decision. It was a lot of money, and I understand that a lot of people think it’s frivolous to spend so much on a purse. But it’s not just a purse – it’s a piece of French history, a work of great craftsmanship, a souvenir from my dream vacation, and a reminder that I work hard for my money! Oh, and in case there’s any confusion, this backpack is not the Saint Laurent. Stay tuned…Audrey (that’s what I named my bag) will make her blog debut soon enough!

Totally switching gears, after shopping, we went to Père Lachaise Cemetery. We saw the graves of Jim Morrison, Chopin, Isadora Duncan, and lots of others. I gotta say, as cemeteries go, this one is really very lovely and not at all creepy. We cut it close on time, and the cemetery was technically closed as we were finding our way to the last grave on our list, Oscar Wilde. We figured we’d find it, then head out. Well, before we could get there, a security guard pulled up in a marked car and yelled at us in French. I could understand “closed” but nothing else. I said (in English because I was startled) we were on the way out, but he motioned to the car and said what I assume was the French equivalent of “get in, you dirty American tourists.” So we did, and he FLOORED it through the cobblestone streets until he slammed on the brakes and motioned to a door. If his car had come with an eject button, I’m pretty sure he would have used it. So that’s the story of how we got kicked out of Père Lachaise Cemetery.

BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE!

For “dinner” that night, we bought bread, cheese, and wine from a market and popped a squat in front of the Eiffel Tower. No plates, no cutlery, no cups. We drank straight from the bottle and ripped off chunks of bread and cheese and reveled in how great our life was at that moment.

And that, friends, was my favorite day in Paris.

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