Yes, I hit les rues de Paris with enthusiasm (and mixed results), i.e. one, “vous etre tres, tres mignon, mais non.”
I beg your pardon, I am not “cute.” My refusals are more and more pleasant at least. It must be my logorrhea of sincere (always sincere) compliments and the proffered card — very chic in my opinion, the palest gray with my name in navy blue script and the blog address all the way at the bottom, also in navy, but normal letters so one can read it (and see it’s not a porn site).
One woman in the mix is American. I couldn’t believe it. I shall not tell you which one. You may guess. Cherie will tell you tomorrow. (Her American friend, please forgive me, went the way of the woman last week with the corgi — heaven knows where when one presses the wrong button.)
Isn’t the woman with her dog, Tom, stunning? And, here’s the best part: She was wearing a skirt(!) Believe me, even in Paris, it’s not easy to find women in skirts. (I liked her look so much I wanted to show you the details: the double row of buttons on the jacket, the turned back cuffs, the scarf, the length of the skirt, the shoes, her hair, her smile.)
You will recognize my usual, safe territory, but with a couple of new faces. You will also realize one picture was not worth taking, but I did anyway. The weather has not been cooperating either so not as many photos as I would have liked, but I’m doing my best.
Next week I promise more. Three trips to Paris should equal at least five photographs I would think. Non?