IMPORT/EXPORT...

Today I was thinking how since everything I like and would wish to consume is French for some reason, there is no need to be tempted to buy anything for the next couple of weeks. Because I will be going to Paris. Woo hoo! (all thanks to the lovely Loris - it's no surprise to me that serendipitous blessings come by way of a feline).

I will save my pennies which will be converted into lots of euros, which will then be spent combing the boutiques of Vanessa Bruno, Isabel Marant, A.P.C, Comptoir des Cotonniers and Princesse Tam Tam for a few perfect pieces. I will stockpile my favourite Nuxe, Cote Bastide and Caudalie beauty products and fill my suitcase with Crealine H20 cleanser. I will buy French Vogue and Purple Fashion. And cheese. All these purchases will be entirely justified you see, because I will actually be saving money. Exhibit A: Hei Poa shampoo. Cost: 9 pounds a bottle in the U.K. 6 euro's a bottle in France. I rest my case.

I then saunter past Topshop and remember that this month Colette is having a celebration of all things British to coincide with them stocking a range of Topshop clothes. There has been much hoo haing and fanfare about this. Allegedly hula hoops and smarties were provided at the opening party. Le tout Paris clamours to get their hands on the stock, even with the no doubt shocking 25 - 50% mark up. Tick tock, tick tock.

So what would happen if somebody brought over a hand picked selection of the latest Topshop puff sleeved trenchcoats, cropped and full length (*in beige, not aqua or peach) some terribly sweet flat patent round toed Mary Jane's in navy(*again, the red would be un peu trop for Paris), perhaps some of the Sonia Rykiel 'inspired' black enamel heart shaped brooches and some Tom Ford-esque sunglasses, just for close personal friends through word of mouth? And not nearly as expensive but oh so much more exclusive than the Colette stock? Would that be like, totally illegal? Or just the same as selling things on ebay?

*In London, sartorially speaking, the bonkers the better.
In Paris I must always remind myself - do not expect to see anyone actually wearing leggings, or chunky Chloe wedge heel platforms or anything too fashionable. Or in a colour except beige, greige or black. Or charcoal. But everyone will look impossibly, impeccably chic. Funny how French Vogue is so fashion forward and creative, thanks to Carine (adopt me please) Roitfeld, yet the French would never dream of dressing in any of those looks. By contrast British Vogue - the dullest, most suburban uninspiring title in Vogueland is published in a country where we revel in expressing our individual style and playing with trends.

There was a piece in Grazia magazine today on French vs English style. On one side there was some woman who has lived in France for five years bemoaning the fact (hmm not sure about that) that most English women dress like Jordan on a night out. On the other was Camille Aznar, the French ex of Preston from The Ordinary Boys who I totally fancied until he copped off with the Paris Hilton look a like. Anyway Camille apparently loves living in the U.K because she can experiment with wearing gold ballet pumps and blue eyeshadow to her hearts content, without being banished to the 'Hermes Academy of Scarf Knotting 100 Ingenious Ways' for re-programming.

But isn't that the ideal situation? Adopt a country you love and embrace it's particular quirks and customs instead of being embarrassed and stifled by your own?