Paris Peeking

So here I am sitting in a high rise hotel (high for Paris anyway) tapping away and completely rinsing the free internet connection (gratis is not a word you hear often in Paris hence the rinsing…).  Unfortunately though over the next few days, I’ve made a conscious decision to keep the PFW live coverage quite sparse.  Yes, invites did manage to wing their way over (I was expecting squat but was pleasantly surprised).  However, the boyf will be making his way across the Channel tomorrow and thinking about it, this has been the longest holiday I’ve taken this year off work.  Coming from me who lives for travelling, holidaying in Paris is a little odd and so I intend to make the most of it.  Would it be very wrong of me to say that I want to sit in cafes, people watch, mooch around, window shop and stuff my face with the boyf?  Therefore, I’m afraid, the PFW chit-chat will be very wee, very wee indeed.

Having arrived exhausted and a little hot and bothered (really did not expect the slightly clammy weather in Paris…), I just did a round of the hoity toity shops and have some ponderings…

Why is it that these Pierre Hardy shoes are not in my wardrobe pronto?  Why did I expose myself to them and cause myself to fall in love with them instantly, leaving a pool of saliva at the window?  Why did Mr Hardy create such a thing to cause all the above? 

Why is that everything in the Christian Dior windows instantly looks better with the classic Dior mauve/pale blue and white exterior framing them?  Why is it that I don’t have mounted flat screens, with white cornice surrounds on my wall playing catwalk videos in my room? (don’t have a picture to illustrate but it is one of those staring at the ceiling gawping kind of interiors…)