Paris...I kinda love you but I'm not sure...
I have a thing for French films. I don’t claim to be a French film aficionado, nor do I speak French other than saying the odd “Merci bloody becoup”. Liking French movies doesn’t make me think I’m pretentious or arty any more than the next person. They just make me smile.
I recently watched Priceless and have just watched Paris Je T’iame. The latter of which is really 18 short films put together. I really liked the vampire tale starring Elijah Wood and Gepard…the dictatorish baby…
It was the last film that perhaps was the most poignant though. An American lady in Paris, a simple woman who works as a mail deliverer and has two dogs and decides to learn French and visit Paris on her own. She’s independent and alone, but rather than feeling sorry that she has no one to share Paris with, she reaches a point of epiphany. Her eyes well up with tears, she feels joy and sadness. She realises that far from home, she has fallen in love with Paris and Paris has fallen in love with her.
I didn’t spend enough time in Paris to ‘fall in love’ with it, but I think strange things happen in Paris…
You find out that French waitresses give you attitude when you don’t speak French and “parlay vou anglais” them until you give them a healthy tip.
You learn that to ask for the bill, it’s “le account”. Say money and you get weird looks.
You discover that Chinese food, dim sum etc, is presented in cafes in a similar fashion as how meat is displayed at the butcher…
You accept that it’s perfectly natural to go shopping with your French bulldog in Zara and how to avoid the dog poop on the sidewalks (that was in Nice, but you get that).
You really want to dress like the French women who look impeccable at all hours of the day and don’t wear puffy white H&M coats in winter.
You know that French people think it’s weird when they ask you for a light and you don’t have one.
You were secretly creeped out in the Lourve especially when you visited the bathroom and saw a massive hole in the wall and thought a skeletal hand was going to come out of it.
You were also freaked out by the French military marching around the Eiffel Tower.
You will now eat a baguette or croissant and realise they’re poor imitations.
Oh Paris, I miss you and the metro and wish we could’ve become better acquainted. Maybe next time.
I recently watched Priceless and have just watched Paris Je T’iame. The latter of which is really 18 short films put together. I really liked the vampire tale starring Elijah Wood and Gepard…the dictatorish baby…
It was the last film that perhaps was the most poignant though. An American lady in Paris, a simple woman who works as a mail deliverer and has two dogs and decides to learn French and visit Paris on her own. She’s independent and alone, but rather than feeling sorry that she has no one to share Paris with, she reaches a point of epiphany. Her eyes well up with tears, she feels joy and sadness. She realises that far from home, she has fallen in love with Paris and Paris has fallen in love with her.
I didn’t spend enough time in Paris to ‘fall in love’ with it, but I think strange things happen in Paris…
You find out that French waitresses give you attitude when you don’t speak French and “parlay vou anglais” them until you give them a healthy tip.
You learn that to ask for the bill, it’s “le account”. Say money and you get weird looks.
You discover that Chinese food, dim sum etc, is presented in cafes in a similar fashion as how meat is displayed at the butcher…
You accept that it’s perfectly natural to go shopping with your French bulldog in Zara and how to avoid the dog poop on the sidewalks (that was in Nice, but you get that).
You really want to dress like the French women who look impeccable at all hours of the day and don’t wear puffy white H&M coats in winter.
You know that French people think it’s weird when they ask you for a light and you don’t have one.
You were secretly creeped out in the Lourve especially when you visited the bathroom and saw a massive hole in the wall and thought a skeletal hand was going to come out of it.
You were also freaked out by the French military marching around the Eiffel Tower.
You will now eat a baguette or croissant and realise they’re poor imitations.
Oh Paris, I miss you and the metro and wish we could’ve become better acquainted. Maybe next time.
posted by Natasha at 10:58 AM
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