When you left me I had just departed the lab coated assistants of Margiela and was treating myself to a much needed chocolat chaud, then just when I was about to post more my fashion world was rocked to its core. But its been nearly a week now and things move on, so here is the rest of my day in Paris.

Having loved the much needed warmth and dose of sugar, I made my way along the infamous Rue St Honore onwards to Colette. Oh Colette, since discovering nearly 8 years ago how I have loved you. You’re quirky way of showcasing whole outfits, mixing up designers, creating looks, displaying books and magazines not available anywhere else in the whole world (or so it seemed), you’re €45,000 watches made apparently of lego, the clever use of iPods to play music. In short everything people love and love to hate about design and fashion.

As per norm the gruff security guard opened the door, and despite the warnings from friends I was excited. It was the mother ship of shops. Suddenly bumping into the back of several international fashion students, a few rich Arabs, and magazines I’d seen in WH Smith I knew something was wrong. Very wrong. Colette, what had happened to you? Your success has turned you into nothing more than another tourist trap, and to be honest Paris has enough of those already. Yes, you’re still chock full of the fantastic bizarre and sometimes edgy, but you’re also crammed to the rafters with people checking you off their to do list of the coolest places to go in Paris. It was sad to say the least. But I jostled my way upstairs, hoping that I’d be treated some amazing fashion. Womenswear, some lovely pieces and great looks, but I’d forgotten that half of the menswear section was now a dedicated perfume bar. I got my Thom Browne fix ( a see through pac-a-mac with red, white & blue seam tape) and left. I have no idea how Colette can solve this problem of its own success but I really hope they do.

More than a little disheartened I trotted off to the big stores, Printemps and Lafayette. Its a whole two stops on the metro & my feet hurt so I descended to Ligne 7 & headed to Chausee d’Antin.

Printemps & Galleries Lafayette, were brilliant. Nothing like the delightful boutiques I’d been in and with a more commercial buying strategy but being honest thats what I was expecting. Last season they were still mired deep in sale and had little new to offer. This season was not the case, it was the last day of the sales and the vast majority of both stores was dedicated to SS10. Which was great as I’m now on SS11 and it’ll take at least that long for the looks to trickle through to the High St. From new collars and lapels at Thierry Mugler, great cuts from Van Assche, an amazing shawl collar look from YSL, and greatness at Givenchy (where I may add I showed exceedingly good restraint not spending €500 on a coat I coveted last season) I was practically giddy by the time I left.  

Shopping should most definitely be considered a sport, and the day had been a marathon so with notes and sketches a plenty I left to enjoy the remaining few hours of light in Paris and wander back to my friends apartment.  There’s something to be said for getting lost in a foreign city and whilst I knew vaguely the direction I was going (West-ish) I meandered along the streets simply enjoying a city that was once my home.