grands magasins

So it's sale season in France and I was determined last weekend to find two things: flat black boots and a dress for a friend's wedding. Sounds simple right? Actually it was extremely difficult due to, I think, it's simplicity.

In other words I couldn't find anything simple. If a boot was black it also had buckles, or dangly things, or 4 inch heels, or sparkles (or all of the above). Same with the dresses. I would find something I thought was decent only to pull it out from the rack and there be a giant polka dot bow attached to the shoulder or better yet I would be blinded by the reflective light generated by the vast amount of sequence (sparkles are apparently in this season).

After hitting up my usual go to stores and I realizing that anything classic last season was extinct like dinosaurs I decided to venture into the big department stores.

Normally I avoid department stores because I am overwhelmed by the massive selection. Too many choices and I am lost.

But the department stores are quite famous in Paris so I decided to check it out. As I expected there were indeed a vast seemingly endless selection of luxury goods. However there were a couple of surprises.

The first surprise was the department stores wishing me "Happy New Year". As in a happy Chinese new year.

Or maybe not me but all the Chinese consumers. And there were a lot.

I've heard all about the rapidly growing Chinese economy and even that they had recently surpassed Japan as the world's second largest economy. But that's all been what people have been saying, in the department stores I could actually see this change. There were still a lot of Japanese consumers but there were by far more Chinese. In most of the major luxury brands there was a vendor that spoke Chinese. This means the Chinese were buying very expensive things and enough of it as to have someone assisting them in their native tongue.

The second surprise was how friendly all the vendors was. I only had to glance at a map before someone came asking me if they could help me. And help me they did. In English and with a smile and general pleasant demeanor.

I won't say this doesn't happen in Paris but I will say it doesn't happen often. Usually if you can find someone to help you, it seems a bit like you are bothering them. That's if you can find someone to help you at all. But this was not at all present in the department stores. Everyone was, dare I say it, friendly.

And that's when it struck me. The department store is where the image of Paris as the romantic, luxurious, and friendly city of lights is packaged, gift wrapped, and sold to the rest of the world.

I spent all my Saturday there among the Louie Vuitton bags and Valentino haute couture gowns (just looking of course). In the end I did find my black boots and dress with the help of smiling impeccability well dressed vendors.

cuc mong nam mo

So this past weekend I went to the 20eme arrondissement of Paris to check out the Chinese New Year parade I read about in the newspaper. And this is what I saw:



Is it just me or do even the dragons look confused? Like, what's going on? Where are we suppose to be? Do YOU know?

It was a hot mess from the minute we got off the metro. Everyone was just standing around with no particular sense of where they should be forming a crowd. Finally somebody must have spotted something and that started the barade towards the dragons.

I too herded but it was too late and all I saw were people's heads or out-streteched hands holding cameras trying to take a picture over said heads.

But it wasn't a big deal for me because the dragons, the lion dance, the drums - this was the same as what you can find in the States. What was different however, was the way they it was organized (or not organized). The laissez faire-ness of it all. I found that to be particularly French (in the States there would have been signs, tape, indication of what what was going on).

One of the great things about living in a foreign country for me is discovering it's culture. Living in France however, I have an added bonus of not only discovering French culture but discovering Asian French culture as well giving me a new perspective on how cultures merge, reconciliation with one another, and form a new unique identity.

After the parade we went to duck noodles. I couldn't finish mine so I asked the bf if he thought it would be ok if I asked for what was left to go. He didn't think so, that just wasn't done in France.

Normally I would agree but between the sound of clanging chopsticks in my ear and the roasted duck dripping grease in the corner of my eye, I decided to ask the waiter anyways.

It was no problem. Asian is Asian.