Frozen in Time – A Swedish Farmhouse

While we were in Sweden a few weeks ago, we had the chance to explore an old Swedish farmhouse that was almost literally frozen in time. From the embroidered cushions to mismatched dining chairs, it felt like we had walked onto a movie set or a cultural museum. The décor was a mashup of decades. Most of it felt 70s kitsch but there were items that had obviously been heirlooms from much further back. We even found a black and white photograph of some unsmiling folks, rigid in their poses, like they’d been sitting there for a while to get the shot.

I like to imagine what life might have been like back then, aside from the lack of technology, it probably wasn’t so different from the lives we live now. I had this realization – that people in the past aren’t so drastically different from us in the present – when reading Anne Frank’s diary. I was amazed at how much I actually related to her, which I did not see coming. Even though she lived in hiding during the 1940s in the Netherlands, it brought back feelings and memories from my own teen years. It makes me feel so much more connected to the past and to life itself, knowing that we’re all (even those living 1000 years ago) built from the same basic components. We are more than just individuals existing in the here and now – we have a long, epic history that shaped each and every one of us, and we’re preparing the way for a long, epic future. Walking through this house, I saw myself, very consciously and very simply, as part of that timeline.

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True American

If a Levi’s classic-blue denim jacket and high-tops don’t say American, then I don’t know what does.  Add to that the fact that I had just stuffed my belly full of  honey mustard chicken sandwich and root beer at Breakfast in America, and I think I deserve a prize.

This has been an easy outfit choice lately.  It’s comfortable, no-fuss, and breathable for when the sun gets warm.  I just hate getting blisters and sore feet from wearing heels, and even more so, getting stinky flats from going sock-less on hot days.  That’s why sneakers are so nice – they allow me to wear socks, and they don’t pinch my poor, wide, Flintstone feet.

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This Week…

What have I been up to this week? For starters, I got a new pair of shoes at Printemps, which I am very pleased with. I also met up with some friends, did some exploring, and some more “settling in.”

Last Friday I met up with a friend from California and her roommate, who are both studying abroad for the semester. We did a little vintage shopping, and I found myself a perfect-fitting tartan mini skirt at Espace Kiliwatch. I love this store. Yes, it’s wildly overpriced, BUT it has the best stock, and really is très cool. Rue Tiquetonne has a handful of really unique shops, all with an urban vibe – plus, it’s narrow and extremely charming.

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The Paris Memoirs: Magical Moments

The memories that remain with you the longest aren’t the landmarks you saw or the things you bought – they’re the experiences you have with people and the feelings you get. I could go on for hours about all the amazing meals, nights out, nights in, and inside jokes I had during my five months in Paris, but no amount of storytelling skill would convey the reality of each personal experience.

So instead, in order to make this way more accessible, I’ve decided to share my top four memories of Paris, that is, the images I get in my head when I think of this city. These were the magical moments.

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Flea Market Ephemera

I uncovered these three postcards at the Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen in Paris last year, and just now remembered that I had them! They were hiding away in a nondescript white envelope under my bed in a box of memorabilia. (Is it just me who keeps boxes of random sentimental crap under the bed??)

I remember rifling through rows and rows of old postcards, and something about the design or handwritten letters on the back caught my eye. I think what really takes it up a notch is the presence of an actual stamp and a somewhat legible message. I can only read one of these, but isn’t vintage cursive handwriting beautiful? It makes me a little bit sad that cursive is on its way out of public school education. Imagine, in 500 years, people might not be able to decipher cursive at all!

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Burgundy Blazer at La Maison Rose

Two days ago, my best friend arrived in Paris to spend an entire two weeks with me! It’s finally the Christmas vacation, so we’ve been hitting the metros and streets HARD. But more on that later.

Today I have an outfit of the day for you, set against a delightfully pink wall in Montmartre. I’ve been wearing black far more than I used to in California, and I am embracing this ever-so-slightly edgier side of me wholeheartedly. And speaking of embracing things, I let my hair go wild today. It’s slept-on, tangled, wavy, and a bit frizzy, but that’s French! and I love it.

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