They had a great exhibition about France during WW2, which naturally created the opportunity for old ladies in 1940s garb to hand out some sort of nut paste on crackers to all of the passers-by. I believe my reaction was "Oui, c'est....interessant." There were lots of young soldiers in Charles de Gaulle hats too so I wasn't arguing with that.
I also had my first brush with the fashion world this week. As it's Fashion Week, it's a prime opportunity for sartorial supremos to stalk celebrities, take 'street style' photos and try to blag their way into the shows. I was not one of these supremos, but I happened to be at Les Invalides as there was a show going on (I can assure you, it was Napoleon that drew me there, not the clothes). I really fitted in, attired as I was in my stylish work wardrobe: jeans, trainers and a Primark T shirt. Regardless of this, I acquired a free goody bag and enough dirty looks to last a lifetime. I was surprised at the amount of people who came dressed to the nines, acted as if they owned the place, and then left when the show began as they hadn't actually been invited. My favourite moment was watching the sheer confusion of two Buddhist monks as people swarmed around them, asking where their outfits were from. Nonetheless, I left happy, having watched countless fashionistas fail to walk on the cobblestones in their outrageous shoes. Très chic!
I truly let myself down at the Musee Rodin - the most cultural thing I did there was Instagram 'Le Penseur'. I know very little about sculpture, but the house itself was stunning and had great topiary (I'm sad to say, this inspired many bush jokes). Much more in my comfort zone was the aforementioned Les Invalides trip. I'm always down to visit Napoleon and his 200-year-old stuffed horse, and this time there was a great Charles de Gaulle exhibition on. Enlightening as this was, my highlight was the French spelling of Khrushchev, Khrouchtchev, although this is probably my "weird Soviet Union side" coming out, rather than actually being funny.
Friday night was two ends of the fun spectrum. Fun: VIP entry into Le Milliardaire (a happening Parisian club, I'm told), champagne bottle service, and way more food than I anticipated, all free of charge with my crazy girlfriends. Not fun: wearing heels on a night out in Paris, wandering around aimlessly for three hours waiting for the first metro home at 6AM, the lack of eateries open at the totally reasonable hour of 4.30AM, and of course, Saturday morning. Ouch. (photo stolen from Natalie)
I paid my first visit to two charming Parisian parks this weekend: Jardin du Luxembourg and Buttes-Chaumont. The former was breathtaking and I felt like I'd walked straight into the Belle Epoque: people were promenading, judging each others' outfits, listening to music from the bandstand, and generally enjoying the afternoon. The outfits were different, but the atmosphere remained. The latter was, like so much of Paris, a testament to Napoleon III's vision for the city. I was so awe-struck that I forgot my camera (this is a lie, I was just too lazy to take photos).
Next week: starting at language school and the arrival of autumn in Paris!
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