A Chic Paris Lockdown – Day 4 – Little Things Matter

In Fiona Ferris’s book, 30 Chic Days, Day 4’s title is “Make Up Your Eyes.”  The idea is that if you put even a tad of extra effort into your appearance, you experience the day differently – in a positive way – than if you get dressed on auto-pilot and rush into your day. (Buddhism, among other philosphies & spiritual traditions, also says this, by the way. That we can find contentment by paying full attention as we live the minutes and actions that make up our day.) Fiona’s Day 4 gives us discrete ideas of how to apply this idea to one part of our day.

I’m embarrassed to write how easy it was to throw on a “day-time” smoky eye this morning. A little shadow over the lid, a bit more eyeliner than usual and 3 coats of dark brown mascara. It felt a bit “over done” as I was doing it but later today, when I looked in the mirror, I looked polished and put together.  (Note: I usually use a foundation with SPF and a bit of eyebrow pencil and eye-liner right at the lashline.) The actual eye shadow and thicker eye liner was the new part to this morning’s rountine. I was so inspired by the act of actually taking notice of my morning prep habit that I took a second to put on a cute belt with my sweater and trousers. I started (and continued) the day feeling quite casual-chic!

Fiona also wrote about streamlining one’s cosmetic bag. It’s one of the first tools that we use in the day – it should be clean and easy to use. She recommends that we throw out the old, the dried-up and the never-going-to-be used items. Then, give what remains a good wipe down as we put it back in the cosmetic case.  I followed her suggestion several years ago when I first read the book and just had a quick run-through of my cosmetic case last night before bedtime. I must say that her point of having a clean and classy “tool chest” (my words) makes one’s morning that much easier and faster.

After the all-important Day 4 “eye prep” exercise, I made a cup of coffee, poured it into my insulated travel mug, put on my jacket & scarf (more on the Parisian love-affair with scarves in a future post!), checked that I had today’s attestation form with ID, and headed out the door.   I took a long walk around the eerily empty Parc du Ranelagh and then discovered a new little park only one block past Ranelagh! It’s called Le Square des Ecrevains Combattants Morts Pour La France. According to Wikipedia, it was created in 1929 to honor the writers who were killed fighting for France in WW1. It’s tiny and charming with a few scattered park benches and, today, flowerbeds overflowing with blooming daffodils and tulips.

After I enjoyed the exuberant colors, I walked back through Parc du Ranelagh to a nearby boulangerie, picked up some croissants and a baguette for breakfast and continued on through the deserted streets to my apartment building.

Temperatures fell about 15-20 degrees (F) overnight from the mid-60’s F (18-19 C) yesterday down to 45 F (7 C) this morning. I was glad I had my silk long underwear on beneath my long-sleeved wool sweater and narrow trousers. I was also wearing tall boots. Style note: most women here wear boots of some type – ankle or tall – in colder weather. Boots are very useful in Paris in the colder seasons given that it’s usually both cold and rainy. 

Oh! And I was stopped by the police today! It was anything but the sinister, WW2-movie type shake-down I was imagining. My son and I had gone on a walk just to get some air when we walked past a police van with the side door open. The team of 3 police was comprised of 2 men and 1 woman. The policewoman said “Bonjour” and very politely asked it we had our attestation forms. My son and I pulled our forms out of our pockets. The policewoman asked where we lived and why we were out. After I gave her our street and said that we were out for exercise (an allowed activity), she mentioned that we should only have one person out of the apartment at a time. I responded that yes, that is true but my son was too young to go out at this time by himself (much to my son’s disgust.) She looked a bit doubtful (not surprising given that my son is taller than I am even though he’s in sixth grade.) Luckily, one of the other police officers looked my son over and said, “Yes, he’s just a kid.”  Then the police woman smiled at us and wished us a “Bon Journee” (good day.) That was it.  They were very polite, very professional.