It was my first afternoon off since I’ve been in Paris, so thought I’d better do something good to give myself a proper break. I went counting steps up the Eiffel Tower with Isabel. I got up to three hundred and sixteen and then gave up. I blame bad maths and good views but I soon lost count. I stood for ages at the top, just looking and not quite believing that I can call this home for a little while. J’adore Paris, I really do. It was pretty nippy up there and I way hadn’t worn enough clothes so we headed to a teeny café that’s fast becoming my new favourite. The waitresses wear little frilly aprons and all have combs in their hair and smiles painted on. The china is all vintage and it reminds me of a place in London down Columbia Road I used to go too. You can sit for ages in that place and they don’t shoo you out, it’s got a real homely feel to it because it’s family run and you can tell they take a lot of pride in making it the way it is. I ordered a hot chocolate and consumed more calories in ten minutes than I have all week but my tummy felt warm so that’s all that mattered really.
After that, I left Issy to go for a little shop and we arranged to meet later at some resteraunt she’d been dying to take me, called La Coq which was right near the Arc de Triomphe. That wasn’t till half eight though so I thought I’d better go and get myself something pretty to wear. I am in Paris after all and haven’t treated myself at all yet so it was about time.
I ended up in the Isobel Marant store flirting madly with those teasing mannequins. I think I actually ached for about half of the shop and had to leave pretty swiftly with my hands held together tight behind my back. The only way. Clap that please.
Next I went Chanel but for an actual purpose. I needed mascara so I can do away with my daddy long leg lashes. Their mascara is my savior and I literally layer the stuff on thick and fast with big tarantula legs in mind. I am over the falsies now, they’re too hard work and I can’t be bothered trying anymore. All I need is a little help from Chanel and I clump it up, lump it on and soon my eyes are all blacked out, just the way I like them.
bonjour.
I met up with Issy again outside my blue door. It was half eight and we were late for our table reservation for dinner. Whoopseydaisy, totally my fault. I knew she’d take me somewhere posh but was not ready for this place at all. Inside it was like some kind of cave with changing ice-lights and a bar made out of what looked like crystals and something Swarovski would have done. Out. Of. This. World. Of. Mine. Issy is a lawyer and she never even lets me chip in for anything, she insists on treating me and showing me the very best, in her doughy eyes, of Paris. She is so pretty she looks like a model and men are constantly trying to catch her eye but she seems oblivious, which makes me like her even more. I didn’t check my clock and time ran away with us. I had the best time though and am glad I have Issy around. She’s just like one of the girls back home and I do miss those lot.
Playtime is over and it’s back to work tomorrow. Alarm is set for seven so I’d best get my beauty sleep.
Tarah. xx
