With the fashion pack moved on to eating steak frites in Paris I try to create my own little Parisian fashion week.
With Milan fashion week now only a dream, there's nothing worse than being left in an empty city whilst the fun heads elsewhere. Despite playing Edith Piaf on a loop and being transfixed to Twitter for the latest comings and goings, I'm in mourning for the loss of the international fashion pack.
The only thing to save me - aside from a French lover with a private jet/pied a terre close to Les Tuileries is tomorrow's FW10 womenswear presentation. However if the retail price for the new Dolce headbands proves to be beyond my means I may just be jumping in the Seine without a Chanel jacket.
Sauvez-moi at email@example.com