So, I'm sitting here, with three (probably oversized, -__-) suitcases packed, a room that is somewhat empty, and a laptop that is downloading movies.
I guess you can say I'm ready to go. and even though my flight is still ten hours away, Its all hitting me now.
Paris is over.
and you know what? I loved it.
I think I loved every moment of it.
Even though it wasn't what I expected; and even though I don't have any tangible products of this semester (except for the fair share of shopping-thankyoukilostore), It was really one of the most amazing experiences.
Of course it had its ups and downs, but in the end, I can look back and see that I've learned so much about myself and France/French language here. I'm really pleased at how it turned out.
I guess I wanted to share some of the my most memorable moments with you guys.
1. My first Hostel. who knew a Hostel was actually a pretty cool place to be. Perhaps it was because I was staying with new NYU students, and we were all kind of in this "make friends and stick together mode" but everyone was really cool and nice, and it was interesting to be surrounded by fellow Francophiles.
2. Paris Fashion Week; running around town with friends, and seeing other NYU kids at the shows. That was always really cool. I'll never forget going to the Kenzo show and probably Issey Miyake too. Oh, and Hedi Slimane's premiere of Saint Laurent. but uh, thats a private matter.
3. Walking around Cemeteries like Montmartre and Pere Lachaise. its so tranquil, even if you're not looking for anyone in particular.
4. Learning about fashion. I never knew Fashion like this. Seeing collections in their entirety, in a store that is solely dedicated to this collection. Its something that you have to learn with all five senses. (okay, maybe just two, but its an experience nonetheless). I think now, I have a much deeper understanding for luxury brands and couture RTW. Special Shoutout to SLoganBaker for this one. The Balmain store is probably the best thing I've ever seen.
5. Baguettes and Sandwiches. You did me dirty, Paris. but its okay.
6. Free Museums with my museums class. I learned a TON about ArtHistory this semester, but also about the Museum world and the process of creating exhibitions. It was really informative and I think it changed my outlook on museums in general. and I think its safe to say that I wont be able to go into another museum with a passive attitude.
7. Partys @ the Guerins - oh and a wedding too.
8. Crepes in the Marais with kikis/Jacks
9. Kanye and Silencio night - this day was all together kind of amazing. I felt like everything I said was coming true. It was one of those weird things that happen maybe only one in a lifetime?
10. well i cant give away all of my secrets...
Bisous,
Jaq
Jaqueline In Paris
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Musee de l'Orangerie
There aren't too many places in Paris that I've visited multiple times.
Its not that I dont want to, its more that I don't have time to or theres other places that I haven't visited yet.
One of the special places that I have visited is the Musee de l'Orangerie or the Orangery Museum as some Americans like to call it. Its situated just infront of the Tuileries garden and houses Monet's famous Waterlillies and the Guillaume collection which is stock full of impressionists and post impressionists. I like it alot, the outside of the building is still very traditional, while the inside has been completely renovated to a more modern look.
Anyways, I guess I'm lucky that my politics of museums class made me write a research paper on a museum of my choice. I chose this one. and like most researchers--i frequented my subject on multiple days.

Sunday, December 9, 2012
Le Bon Marche
They told me to get the Flu shot. It was posted on every wall of the Grand Maison. I told myself I would, I really did. I even put it into my iCal. Hélas, I did not get my flu shot. So of course, I got the flu.
It wasn't too bad. Just the small mix of fever, cold sweat, chills, nausea, and exhaustion. Also, I may have lost a couple of days to the fever, but I couldn't really tell you because I think I just passed out and was unresponsive for a complete 24 hours. Oh well. Its over now, or its getting better which is all I could have hoped for considering its almost my last week in Paris.
In order to celebrate my renewed health- or perhaps to give me a bit of sanity- I decided to quit my quarantine and join the rest of the world on the Left Bank. Now I'm not much of a rive gauche snob, i never have been. Perhaps because I live on rive droite, and I always like the proper life a bit more than the creative bobo types. (But i'm fairly certain its the first one...) So I was pleasantly surprised to visit the new Le Bon Marche --fervently recommended by one of my Rive Gauche snob friends. Of course it had everything that the Gallery Lafayettes had minus one things: Tourists ( or a much lesser quantity). I only heard French being spoken and there were no chinese sales people approaching me with their best chinese greeting ( I am Korean thankyouverymuch.). All of the merchandise - can I even call it that when it is like art? - was pulled for a different crowd. There were no "souvenir" type purchases. Everything was couture and it was bought for a purpose, rather than as a memorabilia.
I was absolutely captivated by the small, but very well pulled Givenchy section. It was the first time I saw the new collection in stores and they actually had the tee shirt I wanted to buy. That was good. or not so good.
My favorite part was La grande Epicerie which is kind of like a Dean&Deluca, but filled with old ladies in mink coats and french which makes everything taste better and cost more. They have absolutely the most delicious almond croissants and Pain aux Raisins in their bakery section.
I'm looking forward to going back as soon as this flu and finals are finally over!!
Bests,
J
Thursday, December 6, 2012
London Calling
My only complaint about my trip to London was that I didn't have enough time. I was there for just a short weekend, and I didn't realize how much stuff there was to see/walk/tube-it. London is massive, and with great shops, monuments, and fit boys (british slang?) on every street, its hard not to get sidetracked.
I'd have to say my favorite part of the trip was the visit to the Harry Potter Studio Tour. It was absolutely stunning, and seeing all the hard work go into the films--I don't think I'll ever watch it the same. Now if only I could Avada Kedavra the finals and papers coming up...
I'd have to say my favorite part of the trip was the visit to the Harry Potter Studio Tour. It was absolutely stunning, and seeing all the hard work go into the films--I don't think I'll ever watch it the same. Now if only I could Avada Kedavra the finals and papers coming up...
Cheers!
J
Also, wanted to send lots of love to my friend Christine Yoo, who graciously hosted me.
Love you!
Friday, November 23, 2012
Centre Pompidou
There was always people infront of the Centre Pompidou, no matter the hour. It was an eclectic mix of young kids, to lovers, to homeless people, to cops. I never had the desire to sit with them in this strange concrete field, staring up at an inside out modern museum with strange tube like escalators that made you feel as if you were entering space.
The first night I went to the Centre Pompidou to hang out, I met up with my two friends Seth and Sandy and we split a bottle of Christmas wine drinking it straight from the neck. Luckily at dinner, the bartender was kind enough to uncork the bottle for us. He took a wiff from the top to judge us according to our wine choice and I think he was pleased cause he smiled at me when he gave me the bottle back.
All we had was the bottle and a bar of praline chocolate and each other. It was cold, but we were a bit full from dinner, and we had each other and our conversations.
We discussed events of the week past, and our mutual friends and our strangest stories from before we met each other.
All around us were strangers, sitting together infront of this place. To any outsider it must have looked bizzare, but I think thats how all great things start out.
The first night I went to the Centre Pompidou to hang out, I met up with my two friends Seth and Sandy and we split a bottle of Christmas wine drinking it straight from the neck. Luckily at dinner, the bartender was kind enough to uncork the bottle for us. He took a wiff from the top to judge us according to our wine choice and I think he was pleased cause he smiled at me when he gave me the bottle back.
All we had was the bottle and a bar of praline chocolate and each other. It was cold, but we were a bit full from dinner, and we had each other and our conversations.
We discussed events of the week past, and our mutual friends and our strangest stories from before we met each other.
All around us were strangers, sitting together infront of this place. To any outsider it must have looked bizzare, but I think thats how all great things start out.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
The Arrival of Winter
When it was cold out, the people moved about differently. In
Passy, the old ladies in their long mink coats quickly marched together to and
from various cafes and stores only stopping when a desirable window display
caught their eye. Outdoor tables were abandoned save for the few teenagers who
sat in huddled groups, wearing matching Moncler and Canada parkas and smoking
their rolled cigarettes. And on days when the sun shone through the thick Paris
clouds, people walked quickly still, but with the slightest grin on the corner
of their lips, silently enjoying the few rays that they saw. People took
shelter in the metros. Condensed together in those small cars, the body heat
was enough to warm me up from a trek from 56 rue de Passy to La Muette.
Granted, the walk would have been cut shorter had it not been for the brilliant
Cartier display that I could not help but to stop and stare at. The metro line
9 was relatively empty when I hopped on. It was three o'clock and the hustle
and bustle of the commuters had come to a stop and the car was filled with
random people of all different ages and walks of life. I always thought these
were the most interesting rides, because these were the people who did not have
the normal metro-boulot-dodo lives.
The young boy who sat directly infront of me was leaning on his left hand and I could see his eyes get heavy from sleep. An early morning class or a visit to a museum could do that to a young Parisian student with the blonde perfectly messy hair, that only Parisian boys can have.
The young boy who sat directly infront of me was leaning on his left hand and I could see his eyes get heavy from sleep. An early morning class or a visit to a museum could do that to a young Parisian student with the blonde perfectly messy hair, that only Parisian boys can have.
Next to him
was an older Vietnamese man whose eyes kept meeting mine as if he was trying to
remember if he had seen me before. I turned away as to give him the answer
"no," but he continued to look so just avoided looking in his
direction. As the subway car still buzzed with a random assortment of people
growing and shrinking at the major stops, I thought about the different lives
that each person had: the woman reading the Canard Enchanie, the paperboy
hatted man who tapped his foot in sync with the rythm that played from his
headphones.
After 40
minutes on the metro, I got off at Maraicher like every day, and decided I'd
rather walk home today instead of taking the bus. It was only a seven minute
walk and I figured it would be enjoyable considering I had the free time today.
I stopped
by my favorite fruit store that was on the way home. The outdoor store was run
by a wonderful Chinese family and even though I couldn't understand their
French and they couldn't understand mine, I always greeted them and smiled and
sometimes I said hello in Chinese because they were so nice and reminded me of
my Korean family. They had the best fruit out of all the stores in my
neighborhood. Probably because they only sold fruits and vegetables or maybe
because they just had some brilliant way of knowing, but I never bought my
fruit anywhere else. The parents had a son who worked the store at night and I
would sometimes see him if it wasn't too late. His name was Thierry, or at
least I thought it was Thierry, at least that’s what I thought I had heard him
say. He was very nice and friendly and asked me how my day was whenever I went.
I spoke to him in my broken French and he spoke to me in his broken English and
we never said much to each other, but I knew we were friends. I always bought
their Royal Gala apples, the smaller ones because I they weighed less and they
were cheaper. I started buying their clementines too when it was in season, and
they were always delicious and a bit expensive.
I never bought too many at one time because I thought they would get bad
in my refrigerator and I also wanted another reason to come back and visit the
family selling the fruit.
When I got
home and put my fruit away, I changed into my favorite cashmere sweater that I
had stolen from my dad before I flew off to Paris. It reminded me of him and
was worn in and old, but I didn't mind because I never wore it out of the house
or in front of people. I peeled a clementine and sat on my bed and tried not to
think about my family because it was Thanksgiving and Thanksgiving doesn't
really exist in Paris at all.
But I knew
I would be alright because I had my dad's sweater and it was clementine season.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Halloween in Paris!
Halloween in Paris is pretty much nonexistent, but the whole "holiday movement" is slowly making its way over the Atlantic. But, being from a New York school, the idea of skipping halloween was absurd. So, my lovely friend threw a little get together at her awesome French style apartment-chandeliers, creaky floors, balconies, everything . It ended up getting big. Every major american college with a program in Paris was represented. Nonetheless, it was a good time for all-i think. I dressed up like King Max from Where the Wild Things Are, but ended up forgetting my yellow crown at home (sob), so I made a makeshift paper crown. I thought it worked pretty well until half way through the night my crown flew off somewhere with my left ear. My "french" friends ended up coming too, so it was interesting to see the collision of Paris and New York come together with lots of drinking. Anyways, its a bit overdue, but I've been busy and whatnot.
I actually did not take most of these photos, loving credits go out to my friends Max and Jackie L.
Yeah, I see you Mr. JackBunny
This girl has it.
I remember meeting this frenchie!
Seth Baker aka the Love of My life dressed up as a clubkid circa the 90's and if you dont know you should probably move to new york and watch Party Monster.
Me and Kiki, she's smiling but look she had her forehead cut open so she's not making any logical choices at the moment. :)
Ajae dressed up as Adam Lambert, I couldn't really figure out who he was, at first i guessed RiRi.
Anyways, these photos are pretty much how I remember the night. I woke up on my friend's couch with the worst headache and a departing ticket to Brussels....
Bisous,
Jaqueline
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