STYLE BEFORE FROSTBITE
I have noticed something the last couple weeks while spending more time viewing Fashion Week, endless fashion blogs and the people who make it all happen, the most important thing, the thing that sets the style makers apart from the rest of mankind is the complete disregard for weather or any exterior situations that might dictate how you dress. I.E. why wear a heavy coat and boots because it’s cold and rainy? If you want to throw on a little sweater and flats or heels without socks, why should a sleet storm stop you?
We noticed this a lot on the Faubourg St. Honore the day before; one girl after another was wandering around in the freezing cold without socks much less boots. Now I’m a bootaholic, I love boots, I have not been a slave to footwear for several decades now. Comfort and attention to condition before style – (within reason of course) has been my motto.
So yesterday morning I had clearly woken up having drunk the kool aid of all these Fashion Weeks, thus instead of putting on my travel uniform of Rag and Bone skinnys, a silky blouse, a sweater and my sturdy, low heeled albeit rather cute motorcyley boots and a Montcler jacket. I opted to go for a version of what I have been observing, I put on my new Isabel Marant pants with a background of yellow and snakeskin print, a lightish sweater and red suede high heels. Forget the prediction of a stormy afternoon, if it’s good enough for thousands of editors and bloggers and followers of the moment, it’s good enough for my. Perhaps trend followers don’t get cold.
When Taylor walked in to get me to go she said Why are you wearing high heels, you never do that” The new me. Then I made her take my picture to capture the moment.
The sun turned to gray the second we hit the streets, it was starting to spritz by the time we got to The Marais to meet our friend EYEPREFERPARIS‘ Richard Nahem. The first thing Richard said upon seeing me was why are you wearing those shoes when it’s raining and we are going to walk on cobblestones all day? I hadn’t heard that question since I was fourteen and my mother would say that when I appeared in towering wedged heels for a day of museum going.
We don’t have to do too many cobblestones I said. Richard should have figured it out as he has been covering all the shows. But like many men he is not influenced by these things, he had sneakers on his feet and a parka on. He did a double take when he noticed I was wearing a light cashmere coat, light in color and weight. It’s all the rage I said. Light, with print, red with yellow, cold with no real footwear to cover you.
After a wonderful lunch of tartines at Polaine and some cream pufs at a store that only sells tiny cream puffs. I know it sounds odd. When Richard suggested it, Richard has never met a sweet he did not love, I said, I’m not so into cream puffs. Taylor seconded this – but we made our way across the street and were blown away. I was also happy it was so close.
By the time we left the rain was really coming down. Richard wanted to walk around the Marais a bit, but I did not really want to walk, my feet were really cold and cobblestones and heels do not mix well. We had a destination that was so wonderful it will be it’s own blog.
I sort of whined can we find a taxi, not an easy task in Paris, especially in the rain. I was getting cold, my feet were getting wet, I was missing my boots, but I looked like someone who did not care about such things, I was choosing to stuff those feelings while I was stuffing my face with the cream puffs I didn’t want!
Richard always the hero found us a cab, my suede shoes now splotchy, my feet wet and cold, my coat looking like a dog who had spent the night outside, visions of my warm fur fleece lined boots of dancing through my head.
We made it to our special place. It was pouring by then. I asked Richard if he would call a cab to pick us up in an hour. I did not want to walk around anymore in my sockless, cut out, high heel, suede shoes and my spring coat. I was cold and wet and needed to warm up.
We got back to the hotel and I had ten minutes before meeting up with my friend Stanley Moss who I had not seen in twenty years. I immediately put on my waterproof boots, my coat with the waterproof exterior, got a bigger umbrella and ditched the tiny purse size animal print one that went with my pants and I walked up the street very happily.
Perhaps more mistakes than usual, WiFi went out six times while I was writing this.