|You are looking at a Marcel. (Some people consider them wardrobe essentials -- other do not.)|
|Once again, proof of my remarkable photographic skills. How in the world did I manage to have her sandal-clad feet bathed in sunlight so we can't see them?|
|Before you think her cute little sweater rides up exposing her (perfectly flat) stomach, it doesn't really. Only when she crosses her arms.|
Yes, you're absolutely right. I did suggest I might (would?) hit the streets of Paris again to fulfill our need for a French fashion fix from the big city. But, here's what happened: Judy and I never stopped talking -- not for a single second. We had to keep ordering carafes of water to keep our mouths lubricated.
Of course we were drinking a teeny, teeny bit of wine at the time, then we had to stumble walk over to Petit Bateau and buy her mariniere, try on the -- child's size 14! -- dress she refused to buy, hit Monoprix where she once again ignored my counsel about Marcels and then it was time to meet My-Reason-For-Living-In-France who is also Judy's HFB (Honorary French Boy Friend) BTW for dinner.
The time just got away from me.
But, I did cruise around the town out here in the country. (I will be in Paris next week. Do not despair.)