Parisian Chic

When people think of Paris the word chic often comes up. That is partly because it is a french word and people like to sound as though they know other languages. (By the way, if I here anyone other than the Irish using the word "craic" I will beat them to deth with a shillelagh. Take my word for it, next time you go to a St Patrick Day do, the "craic wasn't mighty", you just had a good time!). Anyway, chic. Or stylish as we call it in English.

What was most noticeable is that everyone manages to wear their clothes with ease. It doesn't manage what style of clothing they wear it is just "right". It didn't seem to make a difference what age they were, or what sex for that matter. No matter what they look like physically it would appear that they have worked out what suits them best. Even the plainest of women has a hairstyle that suits, clothing that fits correctly.

We had a shop just down from the hotel with dresses that are on M's shopping list the moment the Euromilions jackpot heads our way.

Now to be fair, there are certainly shops in London that have couture clothes that can match, but this shop isn't in a main shopping area and they had another branch on the other side of the road that did more day to day clothes although still exceedingly stylish.

One of the arguments often used to pooh-pooh the French fashion choices is that here in Britain our youth have their own fashions that are cutting edge and make them individuals. That's true to a degree, but youngsters there manage to carve out a style of their own, nothing like their parents, and not dissimilar to British youth fashion but they wear it "correctly". They can wear jeans down off their hips but that doesn't mean halfway down their arses. Indeed, within 48 hours of being back I was confronted by British fashion on a pink theme!

Apparently, there is no French word for "Chav".