New York, Only Ladylike

I would like to personally thank the French for Paris.

It was my first visit to France, and although there were a handful of downsides (a socialist country does not make it easy to hail a cab, to be explained in detail later), I adjusted to Paris like a fish to a Meuniere sauce (pardon the culinary pun, it's the only French I spoke). Our friend Jon Evans, who lived in Paris for a blissful spell a few years ago, was a godsend pseudo-tourguide, meeting us at random metro stops and linguistically maneuvering us through some sticky situations with a prickly (read: snooty) watiress.

I think he summed it up best when he likend Paris to New York as the more feminine version of our fair New York City. I wholeheartedly agree.

The city looks and feels like a girly teenage girl's bedroom (you can see heavy Parisian infuence even in the American suburbs even if you're not BFF with a 14 year old-- just stroll by an Anthropologie store in any old mall and see frills and "Shabby Chic" galore), but it's got a serious city vibe (and Metro) like Manhattan.

Paris is abound with art and restaurants and people speaking French. The girls wear dresses and the men, although not nearly as painstakingly groomed as Roman men, are well put-together in suits or expensive pastel shirts. The main passtimes seem to be picnics, chatting, occasional outbursts of musical theater and choreographed fireworks.

Can it get more girly than that?