New York and Paris are two wonderful cities and both favourite cities of mine.
When I visit a city one of the things I do is walk, not only because it is a way to keep the body within some bounds but also to observe. I believe we learn so much through observation and watching a city at work and play is one way to do that. My interest is in fashion and style and there is no better place to learn than on the streets of Paris and New York. A metropolis is a metropolis but the small elements; the quintessential ingredients create the character and distinguish one from the other.
I have been walking in New York.
The days have been chilly but big and blue with that delightful crunch that makes us feel happy to be alive. I can’t help but take everything in; I can’t see enough. It doesn’t matter how often I am here, I am enthralled; big city, big dreams. New York gives off that kind of vibe. I am an outsider and my reflections are narrow; I’m seeing it through my eyes.
New York has a raw, energised beauty and Paris is like the older woman who has seen it all and figured it out. She is bien dans sa peau. Beautiful Paris, our great love; how we still feel for the unhappiness and uncertainty nagging that magnificent city after recent events.
And the women?
As limited as my observations are I have to comment that New York women look wonderful and full of purpose; I admire that. There is nothing wishy-washy or uncertain here; no dawdling. I see them as slick, as tailored and as women who know what they are about. Perhaps there is no place for indecision here; the competition is too great. I feel like I am the only one with eyes wide open, the rest are absolutely about their business.
New York women have their own style. She would appear to wear a great deal of black (I am in my element) she looks well groomed and she appears suited up. The sporty types notch it up a gear, nothing sloppy there and a beautiful coat or parka keeps it all covered and looking chic. Handbags are handbags wherever you live but you will be pleased to know that the Primates of Park Avenue and their Birkins are still very much out in force. One thing that does seem less obvious here is fur. In Paris and London, whatever your thoughts, fur is very much the real deal. Even the mothers with their babies are purposeful in their clothing.
The khaki crush is a popular look, so I am happy to have figured that one out.
The French woman does not do sporty in the way the New Yorker can. She will wear a sneaker but somehow the combination does not give the air of sport; casual yes, but nothing do to with exercise. I see more neutrals in Paris, more of the monochrome when it comes to dressing. I do notice hair. French women wear messy hair; the more dishevelled the better. New York hair seems so much more groomed; straighter and sleeker.
Whatever the style, New York has a pace of it’s own, unparalleled with other cities. Time spent in New York is like a massive boost of energy to the body’s system. The buzz is infectious; I am racing xv
image, audrey tautou in amelie and diane keaton in annie hall
