Paris looms large on Friday and un petite excitement is rising within. I am there on official Tour de France business, to see the final stage as the riders merge onto the Champs Elysee...or so I keep telling myself. Truth be told I wouldn't have a clue who might win the race or better still who is wearing a yellow, blue, green or red jersey? The only jersey I really care about is that of a material kind, in perhaps a navy dress?
Real reason for le voyage to Paris? One word. Vintage. I was lucky enough to have been in Paris two months ago and spent a pretty penny gliding a little too effortlessly in and around the beautiful kitsch stores that litter Rue du Rivoli. My eyes happily danced from one vintage store rack to another, from old worn boots scuffed to within an inch of perfection, to beautifully carved treasure chests piled high with silk scarves and studded belts. My heart melts at the thought. Vintage Paris Bar on Rue de la Verrerie was an absolutment favourite of mine. It is a converted French bar (with the bar and taps still in tact) which now houses vintage pieces from Chanel to Yves Saint Laurent, crushed velvet Jackets in deep mahogany's and royal blues, sequined bags and art deco costume jewellery aplenty that hang from the bars' overlay.
So whilst the whole of Paris celebrates the winner of Le Tour de France, I shall be celebrating my own little victory amongst a pile of woven scarves, floral shorts and an exhausted credit card.