The Women I Met in Paris
An American ex-pat's dispatches from the Left Bank. Noora Brown takes over!
While I’m in the Hamptons for my bachelorette and bridal shower (yes, it’s happening — linen, champagne, the whole thing), I’ve lined up a few guest editors to take over The Love List while I’m out. They’re friends of the letter (and me!) with great taste and strong opinions, and they’ll be popping in with edits, essays, and outfits. I hope you hop over to their newsletters next.
Today’s guest editor is my friend . You may know her from her near-decade running brand at goop, or her past life as a writer, or from her newsletter, , where she talks about exactly that: the clothes and objects that haunt us, and what our want says about who we are.
- Jess
I’m one week into living in Paris, and it quickly became clear that women here have mastered the art of ease. It’s more elusive than it may seem. To put on Chanel, a stiletto heel, and a streak of Lip Suede is a look, but one that says effort. To move about your day, in the heat, in a shoe that can withstand dust, a dress you can stroll in, and still look aspirational and comfortable… Well, that’s the difference between fashion and style.
There were a few patterns:
A thing or many that looked loved and vintage, often a clutch, watch, or a necklace stack, intriguing and slightly mismatched in a way that could only be collected over time.
A strong belt, slightly reinvented. Perhaps it was thin and sat low on the hips on a pair of bermuda shorts, or tied in a reverse downward knot in a way that says, “I can’t deal with a floppy belt,” but looked like a stylist spent hours pinning it in place.
The button down. Thrown over dresses, loose, airy pants, miniskirts. Sometimes embellished. Always oversized, unbuttoned just slightly more than you think you should, cuffed or pushed up sleeves. Never too crisp, but never too wrinkled.
The shoe. A sandal, ballet flat, or sneaker. Somehow roomy enough to let your feet swell in the heat. Comfortable enough to walk or bike. Often black, but never boring. A color block, a leopard, a stacked heel.
Where I found her: At Ojii, twirling creamy soba on her chopsticks in the red lacquered room
Where I found her: Playing “guess the designer” at the couture exhibit at the Louvre
Where I found her: Sitting outside drinking Pouilly Fume at the new Joseph Dirand-designed Le Grand Cafe
Where I found her: At a dinner for Istanbul-based brand Nyackie held in Rose Chalalai Singh’s private kitchen
Where I found her: In a sea of warm embraces at Garance Dore’s anniversary party at Sezane founder Morgane Sezalory’s gorgeous Left Bank home
Where I found her: Carrying fresh tomatoes, charcuterie, and a three-year-old home from Rue Cler on Saturday morning
 | A guest post by
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Sooooo good. Love everything on this takeover.
Yup the Atersee rust dress is a gem. Out of my size but someone please get it.