Saturday, August 14, 2010

The Taxi Was Cramped But It Was My First Trip To Paris And That Didn't Matter

A little story from Then ...

The taxi was as cramped as we were tired. Somehow the confusion about the wrong hotel or the wrong address didn't matter. It was midnight and we were nowhere near the City of Light. Lost in the suburbs and my school girl French was not working.  Ah, a strange, circuitous shortcut and then through the streets of Paris to a different hotel. The George V was sumptuous and the doorman extremely handsome. We were not expected but there was one room for us, glamorous and large, with chocolates on the pillows.  The bathtub at the foot of the bed was no more strange than the bidet or the pulls to bring a valet or a maid or room service.

And what I wore was __________. I don't know; it looks absolutely awful. I'd brought amazingly wonderful Sonia Rykiel paisley dresses, tight under the arm and then a little bell, boots with heels and a Daniel Hechter coat. I'm sure that this seemed wonderful then but maybe I was just in love with Paris because this was one bulky jacket and my hands were in the pockets because I was probably freezing.

But there were lessons to be learned, ways to do business and things not to do. Sonia Rykiel had shipped very late and the last part was ready several weeks past the "cancellation date." It had been refused because the season had ended, clothes were on sale. They refused to sell to us again and that  was a very, very painful way to understand that there would be differences and we'd have to navigate them. It didn't feel right to wear my beautiful dresses for the rest of the trip.

1 comment:

  1. what an amazing trip down your memory lane!


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