I hopped across the Channel on Thursday for a quick meeting in Paris. As the Eurostar is so unreliable, I booked a train that arrived four hours in advance of my rendezvous & planned a morning of gentle sightseeing, LLG-style.
I headed straight to the YSL retrospective at the Petit Palais, but my press card is in America, and the thought of an hour’s wait outdoors in the seering 90F temperatures did not appeal. (I saw the YSL retrospective at the De Young in San Francisco last year, so I’m pretty up to speed.)
As I walked back to the Métro at Champs-Élysées — Clemenceau, I spotted this car idling outside the Petit Palais waiting for couture guests and, counting on my fingers, realised it’s just eight weeks until I get back into my official Mercedes at London Fashion Week.
Denied my YSL fix, I headed to the Palais-Royal. The arcades were the forerunner of the modern shopping centre, but instead of Forever 21 & Zara, they host the most beguiling mixture of shops, with Mr Hardy’s delectable shoes rubbing up against antiquaries and, further along Rick Owen’s very particular brand of neo-gothic stares through the trees at Didier Ludot’s immaculately curated vintage collection.
There is a fabulous display of original Carven in the vitrine at Didier Ludot right now, along with Guillame Henry’s wonderful new take on the house. The glory of the store lies not just in the friendly King Charles spaniel that lies on the floor, but in being able to get really up close and personal with the frocks on display, to see the construction and line in a way that is just impossible in a museum setting.
After my lèche-vitrines session through the arcades, I headed to lunch at my favourite low-key brasserie and then meetings…I ended my afternoon outside l’Opéra, gazing up at the gilded statues on the roof, sharp against a cloudless sky.
And thence into the bowels of Paris as I fought the hot, sticky, noisome crowds on the Metro to the Gare du Nord, and onto the Eurostar, where my disillusionment with its levels of punctuality & service was crystallised into loathing. (A fire line-side near Ebbsfleet kept us stalled 15mins from London for four hours.)
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
Sounds like a torturous train ride, but a lovely day in Paris. I love Ludot’s shop, could fondle the merchandise for hours.
Sounds like a lovely day in Paris but an awful train ride!
J’adore Paris!
i just love ur tips .…super cool .…
It is a bit harsh to say the Eurostar is unreliable. On the whole it is extremely reliable. Far more than the trains in the UK or the planes anywhere in the world, for that matter.
Looks like you had a wonderful day. I really dislike Ruc (though they used to make a mean tartare) so I am making good note of your secret address. In Paris, the quality of the food is very high, except in the places with fishbowl atmosphere, which all seem to have been created to imitate London. Heaven knows why!
Great post.
PS. You are completely right about the Galeries du Palais Royal. I love them & try to feature them on my blog as much as I can… I have been going to Didier Ludot since I was a wee child, too.
Although i’ve never done it as such a short trip myself, there is something so romantic about being able to just pop over to Paris for the day (abominable Eurostar scheduling aside). Hope you had a fabulous time!
Miss B xx
I too was on the Eurostar that evening, stuck for hours just beyond Ebbsfleet. And had also decided against the YSL queue but in my case opted for Monet at the Orangerie instead.
But I was in Paris for birthday treats rather than work. Back to the desk today.
Oh, the torture! You were at the Palais Royale and did not go to Serge Lutens’ tiny mystical-Moroccan parfumerie! No Rahat Loukhoum for you!
Oh, Paris mon amour. How I miss Paris!
I have been away (sans internet) for about a month and I am pleased to read (between the lines) that you are feeling better.
MM x