French Girls Don't Wear Kaftans

{Le Tour Eiffel as silhouetted down the narrow streets on the way to our hotel in the 7th arrondissement}

Like any good novel, I'll begin at the end. We are back at the Hotel de La Tulipe in Paris packing for our journey home. We have been blessed with a wonderful trip and have accomplished so much in so little time but there is still so much to do and see. As I am folding my favorite kaftan, it occurs to me that french women don't wear kaftans. In fact, they don't wear Boden or J. Crew or anything close to the assortment of bright colored summer essentials I brought along on the trip. I make a mental note for next time ~ think beige or maybe a subtle grey; add color with a linen scarf maybe in soft purple; bring a trench coat or other fashionable wrap; leave Aisics at home. Maybe I'll even bring along a few things from Comptoir des Cotonniers, a popular french boutique with a storefront just around the block from our hotel.

{trench coat from Comptoir des Cotonniers for my next trip}

{spring ad campaign for Comptoir des Cotonniers}

{Mother Daughter casting ad for Comptoir des Cotonniers}

Comptoir des Cotonniers designed a marketing campaign featuring real mother and daughter pairs from around the world to affirm the brand's commitment to providing multi-generational collections that are timeless and comfortable; trendy and chic and reflect the values often passed down from mother to daughter. The ads are truly beautiful!

{Comptoir des Cotonniers interior view}

The interiors of the CdC stores are a nice complement to the simply chic clothing line that makes a point of using natural fabrics. In keeping with the brand, the interiors are spare and clean lined with natural, bleached wood floors. There is always a white flower conspicuously displayed in their stores. Like their clothing line, it adds that small touch of femininity.

One of the biggest take-aways from our trip was how at ease french women are with their style ~effortless; simply chic; natural. It was not uncommon to see a french women, chicly dressed, riding a bicycle through Parisian traffic. And, I was amazed to see them briskly walking through the metro in shoes that I couldn't fetch the newspaper in. I wish I had snapped a picture of the woman I saw weaving through traffic in the 16th arrondissement or more importantly the distinguished woman waiting for a taxi at Gard de Lyon. She looked like Meryl Streep from the movie The Devil Wears Prada in a long, soft grey, cashmere coat with little 1/4 inch pleats from her 19" waist down to her ballerina slippers. She was wearing no makeup, at least that I could tell, and her soft gray hair fell in curls around her shoulders.
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