Oh boy I am in the midst of packing to go back to Ireland and oh my god am I now suffering for my vanity. I vowed not to buy any more clothes when I came here but it’s impossible not to….at least if you are needy and revel in attention like certain bloggers not too far from this computer.

In the first couple of weeks I went through a spate of buying cute new dresses. I have to admit I love the attention I get when I wear them. I’m Irish, it’s a novelty, cut me some slack. I’m not used to men glancing away from their drinks to appreciate women. No wonder French women walk with that certain something in their step. They know they are being looked at and admired and it’s a good feeling. In Ireland we’ve learnt to stomp forward with a rather determined gait in order to shoulder our way to the bar to get in our rounds.

The vintage shops have been my other downfall. There is any amount of quirky shops around the Marais and Pigalle where you can pick up a dress for less then a tenner. However I am curious to see how many of my purchases hold up back in Ireland. I wonder to what extent I am being seduced by the actual garment or by the whole notion and atmosphere of ‘vintage shopping in Paris.’ For the duration of that walk from the rail I hope Charlotte Gainsbourg isnt operating any heavy machinery becuase I am personally channelling her spirit!

I do suspect context helps. I wonder if Chloe Sevigney would look as cool in her vintage finds if she wasn’t surrounded by glossy editorial, brainwashing us into admiring her.

My pal Clare does carry off the vintage look with aplomb but then she is a tall slim English rose. I am tall, soft and by God, had there been any potatoes to dig out of the ground during the Irish famine, I would have been the ‘grand hardy peasant’ type to do it. And until I manage to uncover a secret stash of 50’s burlesque costume, Vintage doesn’t favour the fuller bust.

I’ve a sneaking suspicion the ‘super cool’ (my new euro-trash word) 70’s shirt bought at the Marche des Puces at Montrieul might look less ‘Last Tango in Paris’ and slightly more ‘Last of the Summer Wine’ when I dare to wear it back home. IF I ever wear it at all!

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