SOLDES!

someone once told me that if you don't expect anything, you'll never be disappointed. as a rule, i tend to habitually ignore this piece of advice, so before i left for france, i must admit that my expectations were sky high. after years of watching movies about paris, studying kiraz illustrations, and scouring french fashion blogs, i was convinced that the moment i set foot within city boundaries, i'd be utterly overwhelmed by a preponderance of chic. i expected the streets to be littered with beautiful people, the shopping akin to a spiritual experience.

but alas, 'twas not to be. it's not that i wasn't impressed by the architecture and selection of les grands magasins or the impossibly lean parisiennes. it's just that the h&m and zara stores all over the place kind of put a damper on my wide-eyed fashion experience. i love those places just as much as the next girl, but i started to get the impression that there weren't many things in paris that i couldn't get in new york, and for less money, to boot. of course this isn't true, and so i began to hunt down independent boutiques and vintage stores with renewed fervor. unfortunately, where the store chains don't get you, high prices will. refuge came, or so i thought, in the form of soldes, when all of paris essentially goes on sale. but with the exchange rate looking the way it does (read: crappy) and taxes included, all those beautiful dresses and perfect flats turned out to be cheaper, but not necessarily affordable. with grant money to burn, i could have made the purchases in theory, but that just didn't feel right. my conscience tends to pick the finest times to make itself felt.


nevertheless, i did spend five weeks in the city, and, truth be told, all qualms and hesitations aside, i simply love a good purchase. so what did i get in the end? first and foremost, lots and lots of reading material. even though i brought a small library with me to paris, i'm a true bookworm, and i couldn't help buying tons of magazines and books, despite the danger of overweight luggage fees looming in the distance. i picked up an old disney magazine along the seine, i.n.r.i. at mona lisait in the marais, a retelling of the new testament complemented by modern photograohy and a really interesting read, a book on kiraz and his parisiennes from his exhibit at the musee de carnavalet, the black issue of vogue italia.. my lovely roommate bought me the june/july 2008 issue of french vogue for my birthday, which came with a mini-novel called comment je me suis casse le nez (ma vie de mannequin).. the list goes on.

then came the wayfarers. it was my fourth day in the city when the group decided to head towards the champs-elysees. i immediately pictured fred astaire strolling along the same stretch of road, shouting his touristic glee from the rooftops in funny face. upon arrival, i knew i had to do something to commemorate the event. there are a bunch of eyewear shops located in a relatively small cluster along the avenue, and as i poked around each of them, the faint whisper became a clear command: get the wayfarers already. i've lusted after them for months, and had resigned myself to living without them on my student budget, but the paris air did something to me, and all of a sudden i had a pair in my possession. i found that the standard-issue frames sit awkwardly on my face and obstruct my smiling and laughing pattern, so i got the new wayfarers with smaller frames because, well, i laugh a lot.


i was wandering around le bon marche rive gauche, contemplating the chloé by chloé fragrance while exploring the rest of the store. i know it's supposed to not smell so great, but chloe, anja, clemence, and that beautiful bottle tell me otherwise. the good news: i didn't get the perfume. the not-so-bad news: i spent more than i've ever spent on a t-shirt. french artist roman moriceau created "kate in...", an image of kate moss, "realised with stamps of the labels of all the brands she has been representing in advertising campaigns," and then released a limited series of 100 t-shirts silk printed with the image. couldn't say no.. then there was the relatively cheap tee i bought at the store next door to my school building, with the herald tribune logo. jean seberg in breathless, anyone?

but my biggest expense probably turned out to be the souvenirs that i bought for loved ones. calendars and candles for my roommates and our amazing duplexes next year, a handbag for my mom, hermes cologne for pops, ladurée macarons, kiraz posters.. i'm really against bringing home eiffel tower keychains, paris t-shirts, and other useless, tacky items that don't really convey any degree of affection or thoughtfulness, so i spent a lot of time and euros hunting down "the perfect gift" for each of the people on my list, making my both my time and money in paris very well-spent.

picture-a-day 72608: i want to step out down the champs-elysees

"..from the arch of triumph to the petit palais,
that's for me
bonjour, paris!

there's something missing
there's something missing, i know:
there's still one place i've got to go.."


i want go back..

heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'

bonjour, mes cheries! c'est moi, writing from home sweet home, new york, new york. paris stories and pictures are forthcoming, but in the meantime, today has turned out to be unexpectedly noteworthy, as this is the 100th post written on pandora's closet!


i'd been contemplating the notion of starting a fashion blog for quite some time, and i'd even written a few scattered, mediocre posts on a haphazardly thrown together blog when megan instant messaged me one november evening last autumn, suggesting that we create a blog dedicated to fashion & style, a joint project of both self-expression and maintaining contact. for the past six years, she and i have had an unpredictably meandering kind of friendship. we have similar dreams and goals, but radically different methods of pursuing them, and consequently, we sometimes go for long periods of time without speaking to each other. she reasoned that a blog would be an ideal way to keep in touch.

i leapt at the idea. some girls cite agyness dean or cory kennedy as inspiration, but i've got megan. she's the one who fearlessly pursued the fashion industry dreams we'd spent years talking about, straight out of high school. she's the one who doesn't think twice before wearing something outrageous, dying her hair a new hue, or plunging headfirst into an entirely different aesthetic. she charges through the boundaries and roadblocks that i dwell on and meekly tiptoe around, and for that i'll always admire her. i figured that if megan couldn't inspire me to start a full-fledged fashion blog, then no one could.

once we'd agreed to start the blog, the name came easily enough: megan had messaged me during a film screening of pabst's pandora's box for my anthropology class titled "anthropology, cultural studies, and film," and louise brooks' brazen yet irresistible charm combined with my affinity for the pandora myth led me to suggest pandora's closet. i love the imagery suspended within the title, a girl chock full of feminine wiles, simply unable to resist the urge to peek behind the doors of an enormous closet, far too curious to leave behind the treasures that may lie just beyond her fingertips.

thrilled by this new blogging prospect, i dashed off a quick post that night, simultaneously mourning megan's recently stolen handbag and making a toast to a day when we'd buy many, many more. megan quickly learned that blogging wasn't her thing, but since then, i've changed majors and life plans, renewed my resolve to break into the industry, gotten a little older, and grown a little bit closer to the bold pandora-type i revered and marveled at last fall. still, i haven't yet gotten over the curiosity to see what's in the closet.

and what's next for this closet? only time will tell. i've found that, in my experience, when i spend too much time saying what i'm going to do, the doing never quite comes to fruition. nonetheless, here's to pandora's closet and to one hundred more posts.. stay tuned, kids.

oh, and while my internet is working..

for an upcoming show i’m working on: anyone feel like sharing some song ideas with me? the director says he needs "good fashion show music…shouldn’t be intense/zoolander-esque, but should be techy/electronic.”

help?

valentino, thèmes et variations

i’ve been walking up and down rue de rivoli for a good twenty minutes before i ask my companion to see her map again. after a full month in paris, i’d still rather scour a map repeatedly than simply ask someone for directions. my accent is simply not ready to be tested outside the classroom unless it’s absolutely necessary. meanwhile, the strap of my tote bag is embedding itself into my left shoulder, weighed down with books, papers, my laptop, and a brand-new vogue italia. i realize i could have waited to make this particular purchase, but that fashionista post got me worried.. i’d hate to miss out. in any case, i’m pretty sure that my back is going to give out on me at any minute when i finally spot our destination on the map : musée de la mode et du textile. a left turn towards the louvre, and a right turn towards the jardins des tuileries and we’re there.

the museum map doesn’t prevent us from wandering around aimlessly for a bit, trying to find our desired exhibit, and i note that this museum is a little like the fashion industry itself: a little tough to get into, and no one’s holding any doors for you. and then, like a mirage in a marble desert, i spy a vision in pink beyond the window of an unmarked door. pushing our way in, our eyes adjust to the dim lighting, and we’re there. i’m gazing at valentino couture, mere inches away from where i stand. my hand instinctively reaches for my camera when a security guard swoops down upon us, speaking and gesturing frantically. "pas de flash ou pas de photos?" i ask.

"pas de photos," he informs me, pointing to a sign for reiteration.

"pas du tout ?"

he gives me a warning glare, and i put the camera away.

a couple hundred designs, two floors, and a few hours later, i’m back out on rue de rivoli with no pictures on my camera, but more inspiration than i can handle occupying a space located somewhere between my mind and my heart. my bag is still heavy, and i’ve got a ton of homework to do when i get home, but i can’t say it wasn’t time well spent.

i guess a little valentino goes a long way.

how time flies

i cannot believe that my last post was written during my first week in paris, and now i'm in my last! since the last time i checked in, i've turned twenty years old, made some french friends, ate too much, walked too much, shopped too much, and learned a thing or two, as well. i'm both dreading and looking forward to going home, but one definite upside of my return to the usa will be a return to this blog. i am straight up brimming with things to say and stories to tell, and my crappy internet connection is simply not conducive to getting these ideas out, so definitely expect lots of post starting next week.. in the meantime, some pictures of the past few weeks:



left (@ our class fashion show, showing off my 'l'enfant terrible de la nuit' ensemble) - ribbon: pandora's childhood; top: macy's; skirt: vintage. center (@ musée de carnavalet for the 'les parisennes de kiraz' exhibit) - top, pants & purse: h&m; flats: anne klein. right (@ versailles) - headband: urban outfitters; sunnies: ray-ban; top: gap.

and now off to the valentino exhibit at the musée de la mode et du textile!