Last Updated on October 20, 2023
I know very little about fashion, so I didn’t visit any of the Fashion Houses during a recent stay in Paris. I buy most of my wardrobe at Charlestown’s boutique, and while I consider myself quite well-dressed, it’s certainly not haute couture.
However, I can report what currently is being worn on Paris streets. While on a recent visit, I saw ankle-length skirts, both tailored and flowing, slit up the front and often paired with matching shorts on women of every age. Outrageous designer eyeglasses or sunnies (most of them oversized, all of them outrageously ornate) seem to be very popular. Shoes run the gamut from great to greater, and I envied every female I saw wearing impossibly skinny heels while navigating the cobblestones.
Parisian men also have their own style … suits are cut a bit slimmer in the leg, with cuffless pants frequently short enough to show off a bare ankle and a beautiful leather loafer. Men both young and old are rocking purses … usually a small crossbody sac similar to a messenger bag that holds the gentleman’s wallet and Euros, phone … and the ubiquitous pack of cigarettes and lighter or matches.
One morning when my travel companions were enjoying other pursuits, I sat on a bench on Rue Madeleine in the 8th Arrondissment , watching the French world go by. I saw cars being squeezed into ridiculously tiny parking spaces. I watched people in business attire walking and talking on cell phones without any apparent regard for where they were going, but never bumping into fellow pedestrians.
And then I spotted him … a muscular 6’3” dark-skinned man obviously on his way to work and wearing … red and black open-toed high heeled shoes, a red-and-black plaid ankle-length skirt slit well above the knee, a frilly white blouse, short red gloves, a fabulous red purse, gorgeous drop earrings … and a 5 o’clock shadow and well-trimmed hair.
Wow! I thought. Here comes The. Most. Confident. Man. On. The. Planet.
His stride was brisk and business-like. He wasn’t wearing make-up and false eyelashes; his toenails were painted to match his shoes, but his fingernails were simply manicured and buffed. This wasn’t a man who fancied himself a woman. He was, quite simply, a man wearing women’s clothing and feeling perfectly comfortable in his own skin!
I had to respect (and actually admire) that. And when he paused beside my bench, gestured to himself top to bottom and asked with a grin, “ L’aimes Tu mon ensemble?” (do you like my outfit?) I returned his grin, gave him a thumbs-up … and thought how much I’d really enjoy buying a cup of coffee for the most interesting man I’d seen in quite a while.
Dayle Dawes, Resident Writer