Paris is serendipitous but never accidental. The city has 470,000 trees and they’re all measured and documented. Its streets are preened just like its inhabitants, limestone buildings blending into a creamy velouté for your eyes to lap up. The pale stone is illuminated in the afternoon glow – an image of both delicate beauty and permanence. The latter intrigues me the more I realise that for Parisians, preservation is not an afterthought but a binding commitment.
Even their attire reflects this. While it’s unwise to make sweeping generalisations, there is definitely a tendency in Paris to dress more conservatively, baring a little less skin and sticking to the classics. Trends are of course pervasive and Paris spawns many of them, but there are fewer people who present themselves as billboard for the latest looks, instead opting to mix the old with the new. Tradition is, after all, a powerful thing.