Soldiers on a trip.

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This February, Mousey and I went to Paris, I in my Balmain caban, he in his Sonia Rykiel-ish outfit, stuck somewhere inside, not compromising my military allure, representing the Swiss battalion of the Balmain Army, we went goose-stepping through the streets of my favourite town, starting in the Marais, ignoring the cold and the endless drizzle, but rather enjoying emptied side-walks, no bumping into tourists when they suddenly stop to take selfies, just some slim silhouettes of Parisians, slim as their black umbrellas, crossing the river to get via Île St.Louis to Saint-Germain, and crossing it again to get to the Tuileries, admiring their elegant tristesse on such a day, void of flowers, colours and people, the Louvre’s glorious façades and rooftops just in front of you, the Musée d’Orsay on your right, on the other bank of the Seine, an architectural ensemble you find nowhere else in the world, breathing it all in while stepping over puddle after puddle, to get to Galignani’s on rue de Rivoli, the best bookstore in the world.

One thing, however, I took no account of. My lactose intolerance. After all those cafés au lait I had to warm up from the cold, my stomach became bloated. All of a sudden, I was nine months pregnant. The military shape of my jacket was gone, not only did I look like I had no self-control, I lost one of my buttons, it just popped off my jacket, the one moment I forgot to tuck my belly in when admiring Goyard’s window display. But hell, it was worth it. The French know how to make a good coffee.

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2 thoughts on “Soldiers on a trip.

  1. I love both of your outfits and the deep affection for Paris which comes through. Your post makes me think firstly of Owen Wilson in Woody Allen’s film talking about how much he loves walking in the rain there and also a poem by Apollinaire called ‘Il Pleut’ which I love – “Il pleut des voix de femmes comme si elles étaient mortes même dans le souvenir, c’est vous aussi qu’il pleut merveilleuses rencontres de ma vie ô gouttelettes”. I am always losing coat buttons while travelling and even had a pom-pom drop off a scarf in Vienna a few years ago which has still not been sewn back on. Thank you for this post – it’s so beautifully written, erudite and also funny.

    Liked by 1 person

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