Parisian Sunday has always been unworthily quiet. The shops are close but a few like Printemps made an exception yesterday to help the Christmas shoppers tick off their to-do lists at a faster and merrier pace. The smell of leather, the yieldingly soft cashmere and shiny display at the cosmetic counters got me a little giddy as we wove through the festive vines searching for a pair of perfect gloves.
It was a state of euphoria, the first time I stepped foot in Paris. I knew I had fallen in love with this city. I knew I had to fall in love in this city. And I did. Cliché, but classic. After all, who can ever resist the alluring sparkles of the City of Love?