Rue Debelleyme is my favourite street in the whole of Paris, it starts, at the tip, at a junction with the industrial brashness of the 3rd arrondissement, a clash between an old world and the new, and then winds down through the Marais in the manner of all good Parisian streets until it ends up, somewhat triumphantly at a Church. Along the way you are treated to such a wonderful mixture of shops and characters you feel like you must, you simply must be in Paris - from the APC store at the corner of the rue vielle du temple, to that tiny little jewellery store whose name you have forgotten that sells little string bracelets with single beads on them. They are beautiful and simple and cost 95 euros, but you love them. You can start up the top and have brunch at The Rose Bakery, of course, eating salad and savoury tarts and little pizza slices, finished off with Carrot Cake of course. Or you could save that as the crowning glory in the afternoon and start at the bottom, even further down than Rue Debelleyme, at the Place des Vosges or Rue de Turenne.
The worst thing is is that you'll see girls that look like this the whole way down. Maybe not so dressed up, but they'll be wearing ballet flats (
perfect, perfect black ballet flats) and little wrap skirts and big sweaters and a loose trench coat and you'll be thinking - how? how can I look just like that? No matter how much Isabel Marant you wear, no matter how many pairs of repettos slip into on your feet, no matter how much
embryolisse you slather over your face it never looks quite right. But I've come to appreciate that there is a certain something to the Australian style that is also noteworthy. The French may have perfect polish with just a hint of grunge, we Aussies have laidback, easy-going, positively
friendly style down to a T. Yes, I do think that Australian style is friendly. It's outgoing and bubbly, just like we are. It is often simply and unfussy - sweaters and a long skirt, jeans and a drapey tee shirt - but it also has a sense of humour. There are bright colours, or funny prints, or interesting materials. Australian style doesn't take itself too seriously - which I think is the principal concern I have, at times, with French style. There was one day in Paris when, by complete happy accident, I was wearing an outfit entirely comprised of Australian designers. A
bassike tee shirt, my country road black jersey midi skirt, my
Carly Hunter shearling vest and
little Benah kodi bag. It was the day I felt most comfortable and relaxed, with my sleeves rolled up and my bag slung across my body I strode down rue Debelleyme with a big smile on my face.
Exploring and investigating this idea of Australian style has
long been an area of interest of mine. I wonder if there are French blogs who bemoan the fact that they can wander down Glenmore Road and run into a million and one Australian girls wearing denim cut offs and striped vest singlet with their hair out looking so good. Perhaps there are. Perhaps, as with everything, the grass is greener on the other side. Perhaps. But I think it takes a foreign country to appreciate the idiosyncrasies and quirks of your own. After being in Paris I longed for a full glass of wine in a proper wine glass - not those dessert wine glasses they seem to proffer at French cafes - I longed for city-scapes that weren't all Hausmann, where the house fronts were all different, I longed for hot summer weather spent at a beach, a proper beach. Some of that is not Paris' fault but rather the nature by which I was visiting her. There are past times I have been to Paris and longed to be Parisian, dressing myself in frilly scarves and eschewing boots in favour of ballet flats just so I could get the thrill of being asked directions in French. Rue Debelleyme is my favourite street in the whole of Paris. Because there, one sunny Parisian day while wearing Bassike and Country Road and Carly Hunter and Benah someone came up to me on the street and asked me, in English, whether my bag was from Benah and did I get it in Australia? No matter how far you are from home, you'll always know a fellow Aussie. And that's a nice thought.
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