48 hours in Paris
Packing lists, restaurants, shopping... regret
Last week, my husband took me away for a little child–free trip to Paris to celebrate a book deal he got at the end of last year. You might suggest that it should have been the other way round and I should have been taking him but you have no idea how many declassified CIA files about Kennedy I’ve been forced to hear about over the last year.
Right, Paris! My second favourite French city! (Marseille has my heart). Here’s everything I packed or wore for the trip. It was going to be very cold - but not Arctic - and I knew we would be walking a lot so had to be quite sensible (but I usually am anyway). Not pictured: underwear, jewellery and black leather belt.
440ME navy blue cashmere jumper (comfiest, softest, hangs so nicely - love)
Cos grey chunky cashmere jumper (sold out, other colours here)
Uniqlo heattech long sleeve t-shirt x3. Sexy! But necessary with a wool coat.
Vespertine silk black polka blouse (sold out but loads of other amazing silk blouses on there)
A long, black, double breasted wool overcoat from years ago
Socks in navy, light grey, red and dark grey
Sandro men’s scarf
Staud ankle boots (so comfortable for walking around loads)
Simone Rocha bag (this one is unavailable but check out Vestiaire Collective for plenty of cute, romantic Simone ones, for instance here, here, and here)
Mango huge suede tote (sold out, similar here)
Wednesday
We got the 9.30am Eurostar and I spent the whole journey doing the one thing that no parent is able to do when travelling with a small child: reading. At the end of last year I contributed to Jane Herman’s wonderful newsletter about women who love wearing jeans to fly (hi) and, naturally, I’m also happy to wear them when travelling by rail. I wore the wide leg Agolde jeans (crazy comfy), Adidas trainers, navy blue cashmere jumper, Uniqlo heattech, scarf and black coat (I only wanted to take one coat and I decided that, when it’s very cold, London is for faux furs but Paris requires a wool coat - no further questions). My huge Mango suede tote was perfect for a giant book and my laptop.
Dropped bags at the hotel and, wearing my travel outfit, went straight out to lunch followed by a mooch around the Marais (I loved looking through the rails at Nuovo but everything I liked was too small or too big but, hey, that’s vintage shopping for you) before heading back in the late afternoon to get ready for dinner at Clown Bar. I didn’t change much, just merely swapped my heattech for the silk Vespertine blouse and my trainers for black Staud ankle boots, and changed my bag from the giant tote to the Simone Rocha handbag. For dinner had scallops followed by sea bass with mussels and then some sort of French spin on cheesecake. The wine was flowing.


The best thing that happened that evening was that after dinner, on a friend’s tip, we went to a bar that supposedly had a vaulted cellar where you can smoke inside while someone plays the piano. We rocked up, got a drink at the bar and then headed downstairs. Someone on the door of the cellar asked us something in French and, assuming she was asking me if I was there for the illegal indoor smoking and live music, I enthusiastically replied “Oui!” even though I have no idea what she said. We walked in and were met with two people doing French improv comedy to a crowd of five. Despite the confusion, we obviously politely took our seats and didn’t dare leave for 30 minutes while two people performed their hearts out for us and, thanks to my subpar French, all I could make out was that at one point they were looking for a cat. Clearly we picked the wrong night to go but honestly it was a highlight of the trip. Felt very Before Sunrise.
Thursday
Next day was freezing again so after coffee and pastries in bed, and a quick break to take some ‘arty’ snaps on my phone - lol, I put on more heattech, the striped Reformation sweater, the ‘90s straight leg jeans and loafers with red socks and coat and headed out.


Wandered up to Montmartre, where we stopped by a cute toy store because we’d promised our son we’d bring him home a gift. I picked out this snow globe of the Eiffel Tower with… a dinosaur.
Had a light tapas lunch at La Petite Bohème before doing a bit of shopping on the Left Bank. Visited Rubirosas, a newish store that I read about in the NYT, which was like a cashmere sweet shop. It was quiet and everything looked too perfect to touch so we just sort of admired the candy colours and then left. Next we decided to indulge ourselves in an extremely basic touristy afternoon starting with wine at Café de Flore. We then attempted to go for a browse at Shakespeare and Company but arrived to a crowd control system out front and a giant queue to even go in. What! We even stopped by the Louvre on the way back because I haven’t been since I was a teenager. Eeek, the crowds. I was actually astonished. I never want to put anyone off seeing art but yikes this place. Should have gone to Musée d’Orsay or Musée Rodin.
I didn’t bother going back to the hotel to change for dinner so just wore the same outfit. Dinner was at À L’Épi d’Or, a traditional French bistro with gorgeous interiors, and then afterwards I did the unthinkable: went straight to bed. No late night bars, no terrace cocktails, no people watching. We were exhausted. I could barely keep my eyes open and sometimes you just have to call it. Growth.
Friday
Dressed in the La Ligne trousers, grey jumper, loafers, dark grey socks and coat for the Eurostar home. Popped into a bakery for pastries (breakfast) and ham and cheese baguettes for the train (anything to avoid PAUL at Gare du Nord).
If I could change anything I would have taken a nap on Thursday afternoon to enjoy the nightlife that evening more. Naps are important! And skipped the bit where we decided to be proper tourists because it was going “to be fun” (it wasn’t). I tried to recall the last time I was rewarded for being a true cliché when travelling and struggled. But a 48 hours well spent (mostly).
Gillian
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