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The list of foreigners infatuated with Paris is a long one: Oscar Wilde, James Baldwin, Julia Child, Emily. I here include myself—I use every birthday, extended layover, and long weekend as an excuse to visit, and have on several occasions been known to threaten permanent decampment to the French capital. Sometime in mid-October, still feeling the comedown from summer travel and looking to trade the fast pace of Manhattan for the fast pace of… a different city (we’re New Yorkers, after all) a friend and I cordoned off a long weekend for a change of scenery. And Paris in the fall? Famously, a delight. Off we went in pursuit of better architecture and unpasteurized cheese.
This particular trip to Paris had the exciting fortune (and, noting for legal purposes, pure coincidence) of concurring with a heist at the Louvre—who says the city never changes? Grand larceny notwithstanding, our five days in the city were otherwise uneventful, which is to say, completely blissful. Days spent perusing brocantes and bakeries turned into long dinners involving a hundred variations on the potato and late-night glasses of wine on the sidewalks of Pigalle. The highlights of our itinerary are chronicled below: Here is everything I wore, ate, and shopped on a long weekend in the City of Light.
The Destination: Paris
The Travel Outfit: Not typically one to travel with the luggage space to humor single-wear items, I always end up wearing jeans on the plane. Comfortable sneakers I can wear on the flight and then to meander around the city are a must, as is some form of oversized knit, as I suspect whoever is in charge of cabin temperatures to be in cahoots with whoever is in charge of American supermarket dairy aisles, and it’s always freezing in there.
The Packing List: The city of London should hire whoever has been doing the PR for Paris in the fall: The orange leaves against the white Haussmann buildings are beautiful, yes, but the truth is it’s also cold, often gray, and frequently rainy. A vintage leather jacket purchased years ago in the Marais and light layers of cashmere made up the bulk of my wardrobe, this poncho from J. Crew being a recent and much-beloved addition to my collection. Frame makes my favorite bootcut jeans, which are endlessly versatile, and these lace-up boots from Paris-based brand Carel (I am nothing if not on-theme) are surprisingly comfortable and cobblestone-friendly.
The Airbnb: A perk of spending time in a city where I do not currently pay rent is indulging in some low-risk make-believe, and pretending, for however long, that I live there. The easiest way to accomplish this—suspicious gardienne on the first floor and all—is to book an Airbnb, which I do on every trip to Paris. This time, I stayed in quite possibly the most beautiful apartment I’ve ever seen, nestled at the base of Montmartre in a quieter area away from the tourism. In addition to having impeccable decorating taste, our hosts proved helpful in answering everything from how to navigate airport transfers to where to find a good cappuccino nearby (Café Pimpin, in the 18th.)
The Memorable Meals: We kicked things off with Billie, a new opening in the 2nd, that’s all cognac-colored banquettes and white tablecloths. With all due respect to the musical stylings of the in-house DJ, the star is the food: Perfectly cooked steak in a garlicky green sauce and silky swirls of lemon linguine that by some witchery contained absolutely zero dairy. For an incredibly indulgent duck confit, go to Au Pied de Fouet. It’s not the kind of place that takes reservations, but it is the kind of place where you will be handed a glass of house wine while you queue on the street by the host, a Parisian so jovial you’d think he was Italian.
There are few opportunities in life to wax lyrical about a ham sandwich, but the hot toasty at Mamiche (which arrives slathered in butter on a pillow-soft brioche) is the exception—the chocolate babka is also very good. Lastly, we had a late dinner at Bouillon Pigalle, a hangover from my early 20s and still a favorite place to go on a Sunday or Monday when the rest of Paris is closed. You commit to waiting in a very long line; you order the saucisse au jus, the boeuf bourguignon, and split a profiterole for dessert; you relish in the fact that your meal will likely cost less than $30.
The Apéro Spot: The city has no shortage of spots for an apéritif, ranging from the trendy to the traditional. Eager to add a new place to my bookmarked favorites (Martin, Delicatessen Place, Giclette) I grabbed a table at Rojo, a Japanese small plates bar in the 3rd arrondissement. A step inside the terracotta-hued exterior leads to an immediate confrontation with a large platter of hard-boiled eggs used as the centerpiece for a pink marble bar; this will prove to be a culinary theme in addition to an aesthetic one, as all of the cocktails and several of the dishes are tinged with egg. Gimmicky, maybe, but the food is delicious, the wine is lovely (and egg-free), and the atmosphere is cozy.
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The Shopping Stops: Everyone has their go-to vintage stores in Paris, and here are mine: Kiliwatch and Episode in the 2nd, and Kilo Shop, Free’p’star, and Hippy Market in the 4th, where you can find racks of rainbow-colored cashmere, suede bags, silk scarves, and weathered leather jackets at good prices. I can never leave without a visit to Mélodies Graphiques, a calligraphy store selling the most beautiful hand-bound marbled notebooks and stationery, and Merci, a concept shop in the Marais responsible for most of the ceramic bowls in my kitchen.
The Activities: One could spend an entire trip to Paris aimlessly shopping and eating through the city. In an effort to bring some structure to our long weekend, I booked us two Airbnb Experiences: A tour of Les Puces des Saint-Ouen, Paris’ largest antique and flea market, and a baguette-making class, both of which continue to fall under the categories of shopping and eating, but in more purposeful, engaged ways.
Our guide for the antiquing excursion was a veteran of the market, a friendly woman called Mariana who seemed to know every shopkeeper and greeted them all. This congeniality came in handy when I revealed ambitions to track down antique silver; and more importantly, when it came time to haggle for said silver, as it turns out original Christofle is expensive, and I am un petit peu, how do you say, pas une Rockefeller. The baking course (run by the same people behind the very stylish Maison Fleuret coffee shop) helped us make the most of a rainy morning, and best of all, ended with an edible souvenir.
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The Must-Buy Souvenir: For gifts for your foodie friend, make a pit stop at G. Detou, an épicerie in the 2nd with overflowing shelves of candied fruit, marmalades, and artisanal mustards. Personally, something vintage is always my favorite souvenir. At Les Puces, I found an antique silver bowl (shoutout Mariana!) and an amber-colored mid-century beaded necklace which in my opinion is only slightly less dazzling than its fallen comrades at the Louvre.
The Travel Bags: I’m a recent convert to the joys of a heavy-duty aluminum suitcase, and checked my durable Nobl one—which I’m fairly certain could survive nuclear catastrophe; or at the very least, the baggage handlers at Charles de Gaulle airport—so as to have plenty of space for souvenirs. I also love my Naghedi tote. It’s typically my work bag, but has been moonlighting as my personal item on planes this year; it has room for my travel sweater, my laptop, and the millions of pouches that I have annexed as an extension of my suitcase for housing passports, travel-sized beauty products, and every other on-the-go essential.
