Let’s set the record straight. I am not Parisian.
Raised in Canada, I was not born in the City of Lights. I don’t own one black-and-white striped shirt. I don’t push people to get onto the Metro. I smile more often than not. Berets are not mandatory accessories in my daily life.
Paris is a city that has always intrigued me with its appreciation of culture. In a city rich in history, time slows down. Each bite is savored. Apparel is not meant only for coverage. Music is more than a catchy beat. Historical architecture has integrity. Life is not dictated by work. But rather by passion.
Paris has always been a dream. Now it has become my reality.
Within the next 6 months of my stay in Paris, I want to see if I have what it takes to become truly Parisian. Will I blend in with all the neutral-wearing, straight-faced, highly-motivated, black-and-white striped people of this beautiful city?
With each day as I stroll through these narrow, cobblestone, history-rich streets, I am discovering that Audrey Hepburn was right: Paris is always a good idea.
La fausse parisienne 