Proof that young people in Paris dress better than even the above-average American.

(both via jakandjil)

Killer kicks on him, wish I could see what up on her. Clearly using his metro ticket to head to MMM. I’ll let him off on the bottom button rule and you should forgive me for posting this up being as old as it is.

My ice-breaking first date with Paris was a success. I felt that she and I immediately clicked and hopefully she enjoyed the time we had together as much as I, with her. As with the majority of the first dates that I have attended, we primarily skimmed the bare, facebook info-page basics. How her life started, what she was into, the steely tower of strength that keeps her going, etc. As you may know, I am currently located in Angers, a ninety minute train ride from Paris, so you can imagine maintaining a connection that, although inconvenient, is worthwhile.

Luckily, this past Saturday, I was able to sneak away from my peers (they went to La Baule, a beach destination near Nantes), for a short rendezvous with the lady of recent interest. I am aware that I and hopefully others, will find that, to a point, a girl becomes much more appealing and that much more attractive after you are given a glimpse into the deeper facets of her life. You can insert the generic analogy of wine and its characteristic appreciation over time here, and however novel that rarely is, given that this is France, I’ll offer a vino metaphor of my own.

I believe that it isn’t uncommon to to better appreciate a wine having known its origins. A large portion of wine marketing can be attributed to the vineyard visit and why wouldn’t it? When you’re able to walk down the rows of vines and follow the rootstock to the grape and the grape to the bottle, and converse with the maker, whom speaks with enthusiasm about her craft or whose eyes glimmer with each curious question you may have in store. How is that not a great bottle to bring home to the parents? How wouldn’t that be better than walking through your local, corporate grocery store and in passing, see a bottle with an attractive label and take her home, pop her open, and chug away? Microcosm for sex? You bet.

Not that Paris and I got that far that day. Being on my own, I was able to go at a pace that is rarely tolerable to most. My boy Will Lee and I did a number on the New York fashion attractions but this lone journey really did hit the spot. I had a hefty laundry list of places to visit and shop and, as I had hoped, led me to find some unique Parisian stops that I may not have found otherwise.

Just to name a few, Surface 2 Air Paris,  jean shop Royal Cheese and sister store Blue Cheese, Ugly Home, E. Dehillerin, Paris’ oldest (200 years) professional kitchenware shop filled with gorgeous hand-hammered copper wares,  and Kiliwatch, a trendy vintages store that I’m sure my friend Gloria P. Cheng would have very much enjoyed/slayed.

This run-in with Paris was a small adventure that I would gladly repeat. I hear it’s conventional to get a good night kiss on date three. I’ll be crossing my fingers.

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