This place has everything
Lucy in Paris
Category Archives: Bein’ Frenchy
Tie it in the front; tie it in the back; wear it open; get one in black, blue, and even leather; wear it in the rain; wear it in the Spring; wear it in the Winter; hell, wear it as your bathrobe–sporting a trench coat is an easy way to keep warm while looking très française.
Damn you, Burberry! As if owning one green leather jacket isn’t enough, I am currently obsessing over this lil’ number. Hello, lover!
The trench coat is a Parisian girl’s staple piece.
The stereotypical French woman (or European woman, really) is pretty, but like ACTUALLY pretty. Naturally pretty. She’s thin, chic, and fabulous on her own. She doesn’t need a flat iron or makeup or even a bra.
What’s Frenchier than going sans bra? If you studied French in Action in high school, the boys in your class probably obsessed over the fact that Mireille (who, as it turns out, is a PORN STAR, but that’s another story) NEVER wore one.
So naturally, you would think that going out without a bra is just another step towards looking like a vrai Parisian, right? Like wearing all black or drinking espresso. Wrong. French women don’t wear bras because French women don’t have giant boobs. And actually French women do wear bras. So no, going sans bra probably won’t help you achieve your goal of looking like a real live French person, but hey, why not try it anyway?
I mean, yeah, it’s hot in there, it stops running at like 1:00, and a homeless man will probably show you his andouillette, but at the end of the day, the metro is fast and reliable. Plus most lines have accordion players!
Oui, Parisians really do take le métro everyday.
So you know in the opening scene of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, when Holly Golightly is all nomming on that pastry and you’re like, “Someone who looks like Audrey Hepburn would never eat a pastry,” or maybe someone who eats a pastry would never look like Audrey Hepburn…either way, you’re like, “Okay, this movie has lost all it’s credibility, it is clearly a sci-fi flick.” But the point is, some skinny chick is eating a fat girl breakfast and it baffles you, you know? Yeah, WELCOME TO PARIS.
I’m pretty sure pain au chocolat is French for cellulite. Yet you never see a fat French woman. Continue reading
Non, it is very much NOT a thing here.
When I tried to explain sororities and fraternities to my new host family over dinner last night, they literally LOL’d. They LLOL’d. LLOL=literally laugh out loud.
“Why would you join this club?”
“To be their friend.”
“You can’t be their friend unless you join this club?”
“No, of course you can!”
“Then why would you join this club?”
I’ve got nothin’.
Just wait until I describe SHAKE DAY…