“How is Paris?” I’ve been asked by friends back home since my recent move here. “Oh Fashion Week is a blast”. The reality is, as it stands, to gain access to the inside of a fashion show here, I would have to somehow tunnel my way in. Paris, let alone Paris Fashion Week has no idea who MessyNessy is. Then again, I don’t really know who they are either. Clutching a copy of the fashion week schedule, I spent a good forty minutes prancing around the entrance of the Palais de Tokyo yesterday snapping pictures of the well-dressed (and a few outrageously dressed) on their way into a show. Could I name a single one of them? Not unless I bothered one of the professional photographers sniggering at me as I whizzed around with my cameraphone (little do they know the powers of the iPhone 4G). On my way home, I picked up a copy of Paris Match (society weekly mag) and managed to flick through the entire thing without recognising a single face other than Carla Bruni’s.
Yes, making a mark here in Paris is going to take some effort. I’m almost set on my decision to deny my French nationality altogether and present myself strictly as a London girl until I can name at least five relevant Parisian celebrities and not inexplicably run off into the distance when tourists ask me for directions.
I’m going to have to make some changes. In case you hadn’t figured it out already, I’m a bit of a loner. Often when friends invite me out, I’ll politely decline for no other reason other than the fact that I’m quite content all by myself, planning world domination on the side. Whether I’m at home, out shopping, watching movies, taking photographs, collecting conkers– whatever my heart desires, I like my own company and that’s okay with me.
The only difference now is that I’m a London girl living in Paris and I’m not in my element (yet!).
To be a happy loner, you need to know that you’re a loner by choice. It’s no good being on your lonesome simply because you haven’t made the effort to make friends. While I admittedly moved to Paris with the intentions of spending even more time with myself, MessyNessyChic, and on improving my French, I’ve decided to make a conscious effort to spend an equal amount of time coming out of my shell.
I plan to start at La Sorbonne University where I’ll be taking classes and attending lectures sixteen hours a week. The process of making friends has always been a peculiar concept to me. At registration earlier last week, I caught myself browsing my fellow students and scanning the room for suitable buddies to possibly accompany my new life here in Paris. It’s quite fun admittedly; ‘shopping for friends’. What do I look for?
As ridiculous as it sounds, shoes are a good indicator. If I like your shoes, there’s a good chance we might be friends.
As much as I will never tire of my own company, when I begin classes this week I’m really going to try to prioritize the ‘making friends’ thing here in Paris and not have it end up as one of those ideas I had but never got around to doing. It’s never too late to make new and perhaps life-long friends and in all seriousness, I would only be too happy to welcome such an occurrence into my Paris experiment.
