The last two days in Paris have been a blur. I've walked till I now need to buy a belt to keep my pants up. I've stood at the steps of Sacre Coeur while an artist drew my picture and begged me to stand still so she could capture my eyes. I've climbed the stairs to the top of the Eiffel tower and took in the beauty of Paris by night.
I window shopped at La Fayette, an Opera House turned into the fanciest shopping mall I've ever seen. The Parisians know how to capture a woman's heart. The first floor of this designer paradise was filled with a sea of bright-colored purses, french perfume, and if that wasn't enough to make my heart beat faster, diamonds in every shape, size, and design.
Five floors of luxury shopping decorated with balconies that led the eye to the stained glass rotunda. I walked each floor in a circle taking in the elaborate displays of Chanel, Dolce and Gabana, Gucci, and all the rest of the big names.
I couldn't actually buy anything due to my suitcase restriction, but I thought a little lacy indulgence of French lingerie couldn't hurt anything. I walked through aisles of delicate lace, satin, and embroidery and chose a gorgeous, sexy outfit only to have my excitement dashed by the price tag - $300 for a bra and panties. Oh my.
After shopping and walking for hours my feet ached with spasms. I found myself at the Louvre's gardens, Jardin Des Tuileries, where the locals reclined in chairs around the fountain as they took in spring's first sunny day. I joined them, propping my feet on the stone edging of the pool as I ate chocolate, letting in roll in my mouth as I took in the decadent taste. Ah Paris. I believe I'm deeply in love.
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