Kristen's Paris

Once upon a time, Kristen started bringing me boxes of Laduree macarons from her trips to Paris and then presented me with the cookbook that launched my obsession with perfecting them. Her returns from frequent trips would bring stories to keep me daydreaming, and by evening we’d talk about the one-day when we would share a Parisian flat that would be all ours.

Though Kristen had chosen not to go back to Paris with us this time, I wasn’t the least bit surprised when we found out in Amsterdam that she had made a last minute decision to meet us. So while Jenna ventured to London and April and I spent a day seeking pretty cafes and a bit of calm, Kristen journeyed over to show us her Paris.

We gave her all of maybe, ten minutes off her plane to put her things in our AirBNB apartment and get moving. The compass in her head lead us all around the city by foot, seeing lovers and color and all of the pretty things that make Paris…Paris.

We had overpriced but extremely tasty smoked salmon and cocktails at Cafe de Flore (has its own Wikipedia entry!?) and then shopped a bit around town before heading to a magical dinner at a Argentinian butcher shop-turned restaurant straight out of the 70s named Unico, gorgeous lovely waiter who became our best friend included.

(a serious Me by April, which according to my husband is an avant-garde version of me who doesn’t look like me)

Sam told us that orange was apparently the color of 2012- So I took this photo for him.

And Then….

Kristen and I brunched and wandered down beautiful little streets of the Marais until stumbling upon the shop that won our hearts (and our afternoon). Stylist Natalie had ultimate patience while we tried on every piece of hand-stiched, locally designed and made clothing, impossible to walk out without buying the whole store.

Me by Kristen doing what I did the whole trip- obsess over The Fountainhead, which I couldn’t put down (unless trying on clothes).

And then Jenna arrived and there were four. Four who understood the value of doing nothing in a little apartment, catching up on news, unwinding before our frenchy chic dinner to celebrate our last night in Paris…

My sadness at finishing my last roll of film for the trip…

And so ends the journey of a photo tour through New York, Moscow, Amsterdam and Paris. My waderlust no closer to appeasement, my camera still yearning to take more film and feel foreign in places both familiar and unknown, my heart still beating for that which makes me whole. Irreplaceable friendship in irresistible places, alive, photographed.