Sweater: Vintage

If there’s a chic center to Paris, I’ve been staying in the arrondissement that’s furthest from. Due to this — and a high stink factor resulting from neither hot water nor a functioning shower — I got out of my basement studio in Belleville for a night, in what will henceforth be known as “the $90 shower” chapter of my life. It was worth every penny, let me tell you. It was also located directly down the rue from the very same second-hand shop where I picked up my lovely docs — resulting in a gleeful return moments after checking in to this air b&b. Lo and behold, what did await my non-showered visage but a mountain of gorgeous, thick, wooly grandma/pa/Christmas/Cosby (take your pick) sweaters that had appeared — as if by magic — since the last visit. Be still my heart. I spent the rest of the day snuggling up in chosen sweater all across this fabulous penthouse retreat, which somehow simultaneously faced the Pompidou, the Basilica of Sacre-Coeur, and the Eiffel Tower. Oh to have bought property in the Marais 15 year ago. Some people have all the luck. Others, all the sweaters.