Le Marais. An ode to the hipster bible. Bobo. The word for hipster. I spent the day wandering down the narrow crowded streets, jumping from one vintage store to the other. This district is known for Jews and gays and may be my favorite place I've visited thus far. And simultaneously my least favorite place because of one fact: there is nothing I don't like in Le Marais and this is a heavy burden for my wallet.
The sunshine was grueling and wonderful and I walked past people seated on the sidewalks eating falafel or seated on the streets in cafes, but mostly shopping. The stores are ubiquitous and the fashions are unique and nothing that I've ever experienced. I'm not regularly a fashion person, but for the first time in my life I found myself submersed in internal warfare over an army jacket, a pair of sneakers, an oversized sweater. I'm losing it aren't I? Definitely. But so would anybody else with any interest in fashion. even without.
I loathe the sound of the cash register but love the crinkle of the plastic bag as the teller lowers my clothes into it. A coat, floral print jeans, lingerie, a tank top. *Sigh* Retail therapy has taken on a whole new meaning...