Neha Leela

Restlessness led me to book an impromptu weekend in the city of light.  I’m armed with my journal and books for endless amounts of brasserie idling.  I maintain a continued faith that remnants of years of french might salvage my dignity at the sunday morning food markets and I continue to entertain my flea market fantasy of rummaging through bins of vintage hermes scarves.

Beyond the gourmand and the Goyard, there’s a sepia-toned simplicity, femininity and elegance to Paris that I can’t wait to be enveloped by.

(image via thefrenchmouse)

This entry was posted on Thursday, April 29th, 2010 at 1:47 pm and is filed under Abroad, Food, Personal, Style. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.