Living Cheap in Paris II: Cheap Eats

It is always good to equip yourself with a few tricks cutting back on food expenses, and I can give you 4 reasons for that:

a) because, obviously, I'm quite a broke student and I don't want to give my parents a hard time

b) because one day you may wake up finding out Euro values soared sky-high!

c) because Paris' art and fashion scene is so fascinating that I'd rather cut back on eating and spend that money on shopping (or in other words, I just had to cut back on food after losing control in the vintage shops)

d) a very very plausible and concrete reason - you will never know when the French administration decides to process everything slowly, such as holding your international cheque for 4 weeks when they originally promised you 2, and send you to the borderline poverty just like that. Sounds super realistic, doesn't it? Well, guess who experienced that!

So, to begin with, let's talk about how cheap we can get.
If we are using food prices in Asia as reference, nothing should be considered cheap here. There is no such thing as HKD$15 (i.e. €1.50)  a pot of steamed rice, or HKD$20 (€2) a bowl of noodles. To dine out in a regular bistro costs about €12, and €10 for a meal with a drink is considered a pretty good deal already, so whatever goes below €10 per meal will fall into my definition of "Parisian cheap".

Most of the time I do my own grocery shopping and cooking, because obviously in the long run cooking at home is the cheapest way to eat. But during those impoverished days *sniff sniff*, what I did was... run straight to Carrefour. And here are some of the things that I got.

• a box of Carrefour €0.99 cherry tomatoes
• some €0.99 cheap selected veggies from Carrefour like bell peppers and 
• a few kiwis <3
• TOAST! A big loaf of Carrefour bread (just €1 oh mon dieu)
• mousse de fois gras on sale at Monoprix (that was a bit less than €2!)
• and I got my remaining stock of rice/noodles/pasta/spices...

The key to my cheap grocery shopping can pretty much be summed up by two words: flexibility and sustainability.  I think I survived cos I can never get tired of all day breakfasts and fruits. And my cheap food was quite a bon marché, and bought in a fairly huge amount, so that kept me going for quite a while.

Here in my oh-so-chic 7th arrondissement neighbourhood, I've got a mega Monoprix with a wide variety of fresh vegetables, fruit and meat but they are all slightly pricier then other selection of fresh vegetables and meat, a Carrefour City with a fair-enough, not-too-bad selection of basic food, and a few little Francprix nearby which I don't understand why people would go for them when they aren't any better than Carrefour in terms of price and quality. Frankly speaking, the order of naming these supermarkets pretty much reflects my preference.

Shamefully, having stayed here for almost 3 months I have only recently found a fresh food market in my neighbourhood.

The Sunday Market at Boulevard Raspail is definitely a pleasurable walk, especially when everything is closed and there is nothing much to do during the weekends. Everything there wass fresh, handmade and prepared by the locals. Some of them actually live outside of Paris, preparing their patisserie and produces and what not during the week, then drive all the way into Central Paris and sell them.




I would say I'll stick to shopping at Carrefour 'cause that's definitely much more affordable. Patti and I bought these fine quality Compté and Pure Goat cheese from a local fromagerie stand, and it costed us bloody €18! (Oh come on, it was our little feast... I guess it's justifiable :P) Alternatively you can get cheaper ones from Carrefour that taste way different (and worse) for about €2-€3 for a portion.

The market, nonetheless, is a great once-in-a-while cultural visit to see what quality French food should be like. Especially when there is great weather and great people-watching going on.

I mean, look at her. 

The best-dressed middle-aged lady in kitsch style. 

Hands down. 

Okay. Back to our cheap eat business.

But if you'd still like to dine out, it's not entirely impossible. All you need to know is the right places to go! Here I'll give you my top 5...

5. Resto U / Crous. Okay skretch that - that's kinda cheating. But, well, if you have a student card and you need a big meal at the lowerest price ever. Crous can't fail you. Personally I haven't been there, but I've heard for a zillion times that they don't taste very bad, and with a bit less than €4 you will get an appetizer, a reasonably big plate of mains, and a yoghurt (fair enough as a dessert!). I'll definitely update on this once I've tried!

5. Flunch. I haven't really heard of people going there, but personally I find this quite a social-enterprise made for low/average income families. Flunch is like your high school cafeteria where you bring your tray to different islands of salad bars, grills, hot plates, desserts etc., pick your food and pay at the cashier when you're done. Here I've got myself a plat du jour (meatballs!) which was about €6, a little bun cos I didn't see any carb around, and added €2 for tea and dessert just because my sweet tooth was crying out loud that day. Turns out there was actually a buffet of couscous, pomme purée, haricot vert, frites, riz, pates... Absolutely everything after you've paid. And you can always refill as you like. That's probably the cheapest and most filling sit-in spot I've found so far.

Oh, and did I mention I went there on a Sunday? And it's just right next to Centre Pompidou? You know how tiring it can be to look at art exhibitions intensely for a few hours. I find that sit-in and enormous amount of food lifesaving after looking at Roy Lichenstein for hours, and got me pumped up to go back in afterwards!

€8.50 for all these. Merci Flunch!

4. Breakfast in America. This American Diner may not be the cheapest thing, but given how big and tasty their classic burger is (being very true to American food, not Parisi-fied at all) , the amount of chips that come along with, and that they offer student formules (€7 = burger+chips+juice/coke!), I find it a really fair deal.

Milkshakes are another specialty of the diner. Here, with our tummies all filled and popped up, we still insisted to try this very America peanut butter milkshake for the most intriguing name ever - Obama. 

Do make sure you have someone to share this with you. It's quite intense indeed :P

3. Komptoir and all along the Beaubourg/Marais area. A few little bars at the hidden corners of the Beaubourg square actually serve decent plat du jour, and the cheapest ones are about €7! Patti and I once had a quatre frommage at Komptoir for lunch. We even scraped all the cream at cheese with the free baguette that came along. Nomz.

2. Middle Eastern food. Or to be precise, FALAFEL! Generally speaking, sandwiches like shawma are about €5-€6, and they always come with chips as well. Tummy filled with great spices and warmth (and oil - but hey you'll need it this winter anyway) guaranteed! I'd recommend the touristic yet legit L'As du Falafel, that has been widely acknowledged to be the best falafel place in town. But it is tricky to get hold of a sandwich from them - either they are closed (they always do, avoid Saturdays) or the queue is super long. Personally I've tried the other falafel shops nearby when I find it closed, but it really is nothing to be compared. You just have to stick to this shop. Plus, it's only €5.50 for a take-away falafel! Best snack for my walk all the way from Marais back to Sciences Po - the walk was just right to digest this bomb.

1. ("Oh please we are in Paris..." Ok here is the most cliché yet the best classics.) 
Baguettes and Crêpes! Recently my besties brought me to the P'tit Grec for the infamous big and cheap galettes in town. They have tried thon fromage / jambon oeuf fromage / chef... and they are all good. I think they are big enough for guys' appetite, since we all needed a big break after eating half of it in order to continue haha.
But of course, you don't always have to go to P'tit Grec. Stalls and carts of crêpes and boulangeries are just everywhere (espeically now that we have Christmas Markets now...) . You can easily get a crêpe with jam, lemon sugar, nutella (banana), apple sauce and all sorts of flavours. For some less conventional / less well-known choices, I beg you, try crème de marron (a chestnut jam, preferably the Bonne Maman jam please) or Grand Marnier (a strong liquor. I should try rum next time). Trust me, they will be good. 

And finally, for those who really feel a little depressed by living on a budget here in Paris, Ernest Hemingway once said in his Paris journal, A Moveable Feast...

But then we did not think ever of ourselves as poor. We did not accept it. We thought we were superior people and other people that we looked down on and rightly mistrusted were rich.

...It had never seemed strange to me later on to wear sweatshirts for underwear to keep warm. It only seemed odd to the rich. We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other.

All the best on living cheap in Paris, and let me know your little tricks as well! Bis xx

Walking through Living Patchworks

Note: I'm terribly sorry for not updating my blog for such a long period of time, but school has been terribly busy and I haven't really got the time to just sit down, compile photos and write properly. So here I am cheating a bit :P 
Back in September, my professor of my course "Paris Reading" made us visit a cute neighbourhood Buttes-aux-Cailles in the 13th arrondissement, and here is my report on it. Surprisingly got an A for this *woah*!! Anyway, here is quite a decent piece of me flanering in Paris. Enjoy!

Indeed, il fait très beau, I thought to myself. Despite living on the ground floor where the nearby Haussmann buildings blocked the sky, it was so sunny that rays of afternoon beams managed to come in and filled the room with warmth. It had been a while since I last wore my sunglasses, or since I had an urge to flâner aimlessly and discover the less-touristic Paris.  So for that very afternoon, I decided to take my professor’s advice and visit the famous quartier du Butte aux Cailles.

Travelling to the area itself was already something new to me - it was my first time taking a tram in Paris. It resembled much with Hong Kong’s Light Rail, a mass transit tube on the ground that takes you to far, rural areas. I wondered if that was where I was heading to. Then the tram came. I was standing right in front of the automatic doors, anxiously waited them to open, and I soon realized there was no way I could get on. The passengers inside were already standing by the door. Then all of a sudden people who were sitting at the benches came up from behind, shouted at each other and fought their way into the cabin. I gave in and stepped back for the second tram to come.

I was still glad that I have taken the tram, though. It is after all an interesting experience of the non-stereotypical Parisian life. I had noticed the 60s music meant a huge deal to the French people as I could find Georges Brassens and Ella Fitzgerald as the names of tram stations. I was also surprised by how civilized the locals were to validate their train tickets themselves even when no surveillance took place, and at the same time how bold some of them were to just hop on hop off. In the end my ticket did not work well. I just treated that as a welcoming gesture from the RATP and alighted at Porterne des Peupliers.

 

As soon as I stepped out, I was, like the fellow pedestrians, drawn to the police car that stopped in the middle of the road. A couple of policemen spontaneously got off and approached this invisible, young man out of nowhere. A young, fit African-looking man in black hoodies and blue jeans, paired with a silver chained necklace. He was pushed to the glasses by two policemen outside Allo Pizza, having his body and pockets searched through. Was that what a smuggler looks like? Why were the policemen smirking all along? I could not help but doubt the policemen for picking on his skin colour. Later he was freed, the police casually drove away, and the people moved on. Nothing seemed to have happened at all, nobody seemed to care.

I guess I was a little overwhelmed, so I quickly started to walk to Place de l’Abbé Georges Henocque. I turned into a downslope alley that was adjacent to a tunnel with walls full of colourful graffiti. I saw anger and discontent, yet I also saw diligence in the pursuit of aesthetics. I could not help but start taking touristic pictures of this collective artwork. Just as I was trying to appreciate the street art across the road, a huge crowd of teenagers and students walked passed it and noticed my lonesome presence. I could not hear very well what they mumbled, but a few of the boys started to yell at me from afar. “Hey, hey you!  Where you from, Africa?” And they all started laughing suddenly. I guess it was some sort of joke he attempted to make, but I did not find it funny at all. I simply neglected these ignorant people and continued my exploration.

As I walked along, I did feel like I was out of town. Never had I seen Paris with such wide pavements, neon lights shop signs and a setting of quiet little villages. There were barely any Haussmann buildings, and instead they were built with concrete, glass, and even bricks. I almost assumed I was in the countryside of England. After climbing up and down the slopes and passing by blocks of houses, I finally came to the Place. It was funny how the place was set in a roundabout, just like the world in its round shape, or perhaps the United Nations round table. If you have the patience to walk a lap, it should provide you a good taste of touring the world in 10 minutes. At the heart of the roundabout, the little park was filled with multi-ethnicity. You could easily find Caucasian, Asian, Arab and African mothers spending their afternoons with their children there. Then from left to right you shall find a crimson Harvard-like hospital, an Indian restaurant, a traditional French café, low rise Western houses, Medieval taverns that you could still find at Shakespeare’s birthplace, a Greek-Turkish kebab place, and a very domestic boulangerie. To me this was the greatest juxtaposition I had seen in Paris. Perhaps this was my hopeful thinking, but it felt comforting to see a spot that physically embraced diversity and embodied the melting pot.

From there onwards, the walk to from Rue du Moulin des Près to Butte aux Cailles was a series of exotic traces and living patchworks. Apart from the mixed buildings and the diverse ethnicity mentioned, the atmosphere between streets changed so drastically. Walking pass one little street of garden houses, another one could be surrounded by Brooklyn ghettos and standardized brown apartment buildings. The people themselves were of different styles too. Some dressed like Parisians you might find by the Seine, some reminded me much of American hipsters, and some were still struggling to find a place for shower. Some, like young couples and teenagers, were hazily fooling around with their youth; others, like middle-aged adults, were slowly strolling in their neighbourhood with their guards on. Just like this elderly lady I accidentally bumped while I was taking pictures. While I tried my very best French accent to say pardon, her only response was a fierce stare that pierces through my eyes. I genuinely thought somewhere in my eyes or my head I was bleeding.

I gradually strolled to the niche little bars on Rue du Butte aux Cailles, and it was a pleasant drinking and dining scene to know about in Paris. I guess I would have sat down and have un verre if it wasn’t for the weird encounters. My head ached a bit, so I just walked by and looked for a little bench to sit down, trying to organize my thoughts.

Did I miss something? Was there a story behind all these nonchalance and melange? It was hard to tell what the majority population of this quartier was. There was no dominance, and meanwhile there was no one who really bothers to make an effort and integrate. Almost everyone in the world would love to come to Paris and just become a Parisian, but not these people. These people were not posh but lofty, unrefined but set free. I sensed some sort of indifference and pride in this little town that I could not find in downtown Paris. 

Interestingly, while there was so many differences that can be found among the tenants, what they share in common is what they differ for – to stay true to who they are. They endear their identity, embrace their own cultures and live with these elements overtly. And if they are immigrants, then let them be immigrants – the hell with all that superiority and pretense! I doubt if any one of them had ever thought of Parisifying themselves.

As the sun came down and blinds my view, I decided it was time to call it a day and return to my neighbourhood in the 7^th arrondissment, where I could resume that typical Parisian lifestyle again. I walked back to the artisan boulangerie I passed by earlier and bought myself a baguette as an immediate snack and a souvenir of my tour. I torn off the tip, had a bite, and could not help wondering if the boulanger accidently poured a jar of salt into his dough. But then, I thought, who am I to judge? So I went on and snacked on that French bun, took the metro, and made myself some Cantonese fried rice for dinner that night. As soon as I tugged in my spoon, it felt just right.

Drugstore Paradise

I have such a terrible weak spot when it comes to toiletries and beauty products.

As a hybrid of shopaholic and beauty maniac, I cannot trying new products and finding the ones that suit me best. Drugstore filled with fine local skincare products is exactly something my hometown lacks. This probably explains why I fancy CVS and Boots so much whenever I find them during my trips. Honestly, the cheap and wide variety of cosmetics never fails to drive me nuts - all that Cover Girl, Rimmel, Barry M, all those well-known brands I've always heard on YouTube make-up tutorials but never available in Hong Kong (you have to understand by drugstore make-up we Hong Kongers are only referring to L'Oreal, Revlon and Maybeline. Real drugstores in Hong Kong are those all-white old-fashioned stores that sells pills, milk powder, diapers and detergents. There are barely any cosmetics available). Plenty of choices, testers, and of course, cheap deals.

But now that I've been to the drugstores, or les pharmacies, here in Paris, things have now taken up to a whole new level! (As if it hasn't been crazy enough...)

Citipharma on Rue de Four. It's almost a tourist attraction now.

Photo Credits to Yelp.com

Perhaps this may be nothing new to everyone. Caudalie is always positively reviewed (and swept away by maindlanders) and now launching a concept store in Hong Kong (for those of you who don't know about it, do check out their refreshing sprays and infamous grape seed products); Avene, Vichy, Bioderma and La Roche Porsay are now imported by Mannings, can be ordered online and recommended by YouTube makeup artists, including my beloved Lisa Eldridge.

In case you haven't seen it!

To be fair, shopping at Mannings has been pleasurable. The products they have are good enough to maintain an alright appearance. And I sadistically love to put myself in the dilemma and struggle between all considerable factors. My usual stream of thought would be something like: "This is a better bargain, that is recommended by so-and-so, this is what my skin is craving for, that I have to look up for reviews...Oh no wait I'm supposed to save money!". But here at Citipharma, I have to struggle a hell lot more! There's too many legit goodies here!

In Parisian's mindset, I guess grooming is just as basic and essential as brushing teeth. The Parisians (well, the chic and fairly wealthy ones) here have set the par for grooming extremely high. You won't see people with unnourished skin, messy hair or terrible odour. If you look closely, some of these ladies in their 50s have luminous skin with fine pores. Yes it may be wrinkled but still you can tell it is nourished and well taken care of. And when they touch up on their make-up, it looks like they do it gently, slowly, taking every detail (especially those we always miss) into considering, just like applying mascara to the lashes at the corner of the eyes. That's just how meticulous they are.

Maybe Parisians think looking bad or not treating yourself well is an illness, and so people need to consult pharmacists and get drugs from pharmacies (now it all makes sense!). 

The French have a wide array of local brands to choose from. All that we have seen in Asia is just a tiny fraction of the full picture here. Considering I have been quite conscious and alert when it comes to beauty products, there are loooads more I have never heard of, and would not have tried if it wasn't the French sales here who recommended them to me. 

The sales in white robes, or perhaps supposedly beauty experts / pharmacists" don't really hardsell, but when you approach to them for help, they would genuinely consider your skin type and make recommendations accordingly. I've had a few encounters with them already, and they don't necessarily suggest me to buy high-end expensive products. And surprisingly, all their recommended products worked quite well on me. Plus, given the whole shop is not furnished in a super commercial way like Sasa that kind of turns me off, the pharmacy always leave me with an impression of modesty and trustworthiness.

What I also like about the products is that they are all very mild and soothing in general. Like Avene's cold cream body lotion that declares sans paraben and Bioderma's sans alcool deodorant (as seen in the photo above) really feels better on my skin. Each of these products don't work like instant magic, but they work gradually after multiple application. In a long run they do serve their proposes as they suggest on the packaging. So when it says "apisante","très doux" or "brilliance", it is literally doing it work to pump you up with moisture, soften your skin, or make your hair glow.

Comparing to things the Taiwanese Japanese Korean products and group-buying in Hong Kong, I guess French ones are comparatively expensive. But here things are not that commercialised and pushed by brands, and everyone gets to discover new products that suits their personal needs better. Things here are not rock-bottom cheap, but if you are willing to pay an affordable/reasonable price, it is almost assured that the quality will be quite fair. I don't think anyone will ever buy something that is terribly shitty and wants to dump it right away. At least no one will think that "oh this is too cheap to resist. I can afford dumping it if it turns out bad". NO. People really buy what they need and solves their problems from the root. So I guess I prefer the French way.

Oh and one important thing - they all smell amazing! That means a huge deal to me.

For those who are completely new to French beauty products, I can list you the products I'm now using for your reference:

- Hair products: I'm using a Klorane shampoo and dates hair mask as conditioner. Reason being: I've permed my hair way too much before I left Hong Kong, and now that I prefer sleek Asian hair than my permed curls, I'm trying to keep my hair smooth and strong. Klorane is definitely the one I always trust when it comes to hair products. They smell great, keep things natural, does the job.

- Shower: I'm using Roger et Gailles rose shower cream. The cream is not very thick or sticky, it's just not very fluid-like or contain loads of soap, so it is very gentle and leaves a comfortable finish to the skin. I expected the rose scent to last longer but it didn't, so that was my only disappointment. I guess shower oils in the supermarkets will do the job as well, and might cost less!

- Facial Skincare: I bought Galénic's Cauterets purifying cleansing gel (the green tube) with the help of the pharmacist's recommendation. I tried, with broken French, to tell her that I'm looking for a mild cleanser for combination skin and I want to get rid of the tiny oily zits, and so far this has been pretty good. Well, at least it cleanses throughoutly (removes traces of make-up!) and never irritates my skin. It was on a special deal that 1 tube is €9 while 2 are about €10! I took her advice, the risk of €1 and 2 tubes, and I'm glad that I did.
I'm also using Lierac's moisturing mask and eye cream these days (not shown in the picture as it is a recent purchase! will update later :P) as the dry weather almost made my skin crack. I only got to know this brand with the help of the pharmacist again, and they really saved me. The "cracks" are all gone!

And there are a few more I've heard from my bestie Patricia and I'm planning to purchase one by one...
- Nuxe's Huile Prodigieuse: a natural oil that smells great to be applied on your hair and skin whenever you feel dry! I'd definitely need some as the weather is getting quite dry!
- Klorane's dry shampoo: as it is getting colder and dryer here in Paris, I guess it is better not to wash my hair everyday, but to keep it fresh with dry shampoo instead!

And of course, the perfume... hmm, we will talk about that later. I've just found something the other day. Stay tuned!

And now I always sing in my shower, dream about my hair growing longer and stronger... 

Feels so good!

Living Cheap in Paris I: Cheap Chic Wears

Being well-trained by my shopaholic (in a good way - cos obviously I'm the beneficiary!) mother at bazaars and outlets since I was a kid, I am almost proud to call myself a good buyer with great endurance and sharp eyes at the battlefields.

When I say battlefields, I mean these.

Free'P'Star at Le Marais! Photo credits to Time Out Paris

To stay stylish on a tight budget, I can't think of a better way of getting hold of some cool pieces at vintage shops. Paris, or Le Marais in the 4e Arrondissement in particular, is full of these second-handed clothing collecting points where they sell them at a fairly reasonable price. 

Some of them like Free'P'Star (with 3 shops in the area. I mean, 3!!! But trust me, you won't find it too much. You'll never know what you will dig up! Here I have all 3 of them plotted on Google Map - it makes a perfect walk in Le Marais. Feel free to use it for yourself!) are famous for their great collection of vintage clothings like big coats, leather coats and skirts, handbags, basically everything. Some of them occasionally come with big brands, perhaps something like a Burberry trench. The shops themselve They are all marked at fairly affordable prices, like my (faux?) leather biker jacket and camel big wool coat are both €10 each! Both of them are in great condition, and with that price I'd say they are the best bargains ever.

 

(Very likely faux) leather biker jacket on the left, and my recent obsession on the right.

But not everyone has that endurance to go through lumps of messy clothes that shopaholics (I guess I'm referring to myself...) do. If you are looking for something neater and more systematic, I would recommend Kilo Shop instead. They have three shops in Paris, I believe. I always go to the one on Boulevard Saint Germain as it is just a 10-15 mins walk from my home, and you can always pass by the lovely Café de Flore, Les Deux Magots and pass by the incredible Citipharma (!!!). Anyway. Back to the real business. Kilo Shop, as its name suggests, is to weigh your shopping and decide how much it is! I simply love the concept of that, it's just sheer fun. My previous purchase from the shop was a tweet blazer and it was about €13 if memory serves. Their hats also worth the digging - I cannot stress more on the love Parisians have for hats. You just have to come see it yourself. Right at the entrance you'll find a huuuge trunk of hats welcoming you. And guess how much they are? "Prix fixe - €5 chaque chapeau". I wonder how one can possibly resist that. My fashionista bestie Patricia has also got herself this classic round hat there.

Isn't she lovely??

And I stole it from her for being a Parisian witch for the Halloween evening :P

Well, in case you strongly refuse wearing someone's pass-you-on, you may want to try places like H&M too. I know I'm pointing the obvious, but with some luck H&M may do you good too. Here I got myself a faux fur coat, which cost me about €20. And I know this is just from H&M's youngster line, the cutting and material isn't all that nice... But still it's not too bad for seasonal mix and matching, I guess?

Grey is pretty much my new colour...

Dublin. Early Oct, 2013.

In fact, H&M here in Paris may be a pleasant surprise for most Hongkongers. Unlike the H&Ms or Mongkok cheap clothings in Hong Kong, H&M here come with quite a fair quality, I'd say. So far I've shopped some basic tees, tanks and even a all black maxi dress from the brand. The cutting fits pretty well, the cotton stays comfy (so far), and the dyes of the dark garments are not coming off, which is almost impossible if it was from Hong Kong. Perhaps that's the difference between Made in China and Made in Turkey/Bangladesh.

I haven't figured out more ways to diversify my source of cheap yet decent clothing yet, but so far this combination of H&M basics and vintage coats hasn't been too bad. I'll update you peeps more later as my exploration goes on! x

"I'm diggin', I'm diggin', I'm searchin' through that luggage -
One man's trash is another man's come up!"

And a groovy song I heard while I was in Kilo Shop. 
Caution: Super Addictive.

P.S. You'll never know who you bump into. Sometimes you might just meet people from your hometown, chit chat a bit, and go out for a dinner just like that. That's how beautiful Paris is. And wishing this engaged couple all the best! Congrats Chacky and Gip! :) 

Oh with the friendliest waiter ever! Lol

Expo: Edwin Blumenfeld

It is obvious, if not cliché, that I am going to see Blumenfeld for fashion photography. Honestly, who hasn't seen his classic Vogue covers?

Sweeeeet, aren't they?

But what stun me more are the female portraits from his early work in the 30s (I'm pretty sure I'm born in the wrong era - I always loved the glamourous eras like the good old Gatsby - all that jazz and swing, headpieces and shorten dresses - and the increasing use of colour and cute decor in 30s. We can come back to that in the future). 

Solarized effects.

Untitled (Tara Twain). Amsterdam, 1930. 

Blumenfeld personlly picked this as his business card photo and one of his best 100 photos.

I think this is my personal favourite too...

Sans titre (Leonir Fini, peintre). 1937.

All these women portray a temperament that is so obviously different from the fashion ads and shots. While those from the latter epoque always look sharp, confident, liberated, these women from the 30s... they all look worrisome, yet beautifully fragile and soulfully artistic. They aren't ordinary girls next door, they are actresses, artists and singers at some point. It's simply a little change of style - the lighting, the after-effects, the focus of face - that makes all the difference.

And since photography was prohibited, I tried so hard to quickly sketch everything.

Perhaps all those debate on art vs photography was right... Oh here we go again Baudelaire...

But nonetheless it was a bonne visite. The sketching made me feel productive and inspired by a genius, if not slightly talented (lol!). Feeling super pumped and evoked to do some good stylish shooting soon!

"Pour moi, un photographe amateur est un passioné, un espirit libre qui photographie ce qu'il aime et aime ce qu'il photographie." - Edwin Blumenfeld

Ok c'est tout (en fait c'est trop!) pour aujourd'hui. À la prochaine! K xx

P.S. When I first arrived at Musée du Jeu de Paume, the billeterie has ridiculously stopped working due to technical problems and made the visitors wait outside in the chilly weather (yep the temperature has dropped quite a bit these days here in Paris), and I made a little joke that this guy better be good. Now thinking back, he really worthed the wait I guess :) I'd recommend this expo, but just go with a big fluffy scarf!

Prelude

I don't quite know how I managed to come and live in Paris.

I don't know what kind of fantasy or how the beauty of French language and culture eluded me here. All I am certain of is that I've got to leave my hometown. Having spent all my past 21 years in Hong Kong, yeah the conventionally known as hip cool Pearl of the Oriental (oh here we go again...). I've been longing for something else. It is now or never.

Tracing back to when I was 5 years old, I used to spend most of my time with my Lebanese-Chinese best friend, wondering why people have culturally fascinating background while I'm just plain Hong Kong Chinese, why people can migrate and live with different lifestyles as they wish while I'm stuck in Hong Kong, why my friend goes to an international school while I go to a local one. And as I grew up, my envy has grown just as much. It is not fun at all to see my best friends and boyfriend gradually detaching from the local education system, leaving for the UK, the US and exotic places like Austria, Sao Paolo, Milan... One by one. And I was left here to deal with the famous-for-being-harsh Hong Kong A-Levels, with slim chances of attending overseas universities.

What I have been telling myself is, hey, it's okay. we will sort it out somehow. maybe an exchange during my uni life, or maybe working elsewhere in the future. you'll never know where life takes you, right? 

That's how long I've been waiting for this.

And so I fought hard, fell hard, almost denied my chances... and with a bit of luck I was given the opportunity to spend a year in Paris to brush up my French (which was supposedly my second major at HKU) and gain some insights of the world (which Sciences Po, the uni hosting me, is famous for). Et voilà, je suis arrivée!

My lovely neighbourhood near Saint Germain-des-Près

Paris and I, at the beginning, were in quite a love-hate relationship. Just days before I left Hong Kong, I anticipated my departure just as much as having weird dreams, terrible anxieties of being stabbed (thank you Paris Je T'aime for haunting), robbed, or getting lost in the city that I can't express myself very well. But now that I'm starting to settle down and adjust my lifestyle, I simply love it, and I embrace all the shitty bits of this self-appointed journey. It was after all what I asked for.

Excusez-moi pour la composition horrible... 

but it's probably my only pic to symbolize "flâner" at the moment..

Inevitably I was captivated by Paris's beauty. Here it is, the City of Lights. The Haussmann buildings, the uneven roads and unique alleys, the elaborated street lamps... It is as if every corner has its story and character that always catches your glimpse, and you ought to walk up to it and give it a good look. Or maybe it's just me who loves to peek and, coincidentally, loves to walk so much (ok this is partly to save metro money, but it's not like every international cosmopolis is that beautiful and walkable, no?). Hence I decided to start this blog of "flanering" and voyeurism. This blog is to record my wacky eastern-western fusion lifestyle and silly observations of Parisians before my brain gets rusted and my memories fade, and eventually, we might see how this journey will gradually mould me.

But anyhow, no matter whether you like me or hate me, the idea of "voyeuring" and "flanering", thank you for being part of my journey. And welcome - to my blog, my life, my world.

Alors, on y va?

"If you like me, then THANK YOU! If you hate me, then... FUCK YOU!"

Lady Sovereign - Love me or Hate me

"It took a long long time to get here; it took a brave brave girl to try"

Alicia Keys - Brand New Me