image: From Greenwich
The very first time I went to Paris was in 1998. I was in college and was traveling on a few dollars a day. We somehow found this gorgeous apartment/hotel to stay in for something like $17 a night. It was, in retrospect, the biggest mistake I could have made while traveling through the city of lights. See, when you go to a city for the first time, you want to actually see the city. But when you stay in luxury, getting out of the house is a feat in itself. Who wants to step outside when you can relax on a giant couch with home magazines, wine and amazing friends? I didn't see much of Paris on that trip. But what I did see was how I wanted to live, how I wanted my home to feel. At least my dream home. Parisians have allure oozing from their souls to their soles. It's classic innate chicness. It's ease and beauty. And now, after writing this, I'm yearning to hop on a flight and spend some time on foot, exploring the insides of Parisian apartments from a stalkers perspective - street level, peering in. Soon.