I’ve been dreaming of going to France for years, sitting at a café table as fashionably dressed Parisians strolled past. In reality, most locals dress like the rest of us in comfortable, coordinated layers. There were some variations to daily fashion, the most notable the refreshing lack of athleisure wear. Leggings, sweats, and yoga pants are not considered suitable for the street. The only women wearing athletic gear were those jogging. For both men and women clothing fit well and outfits looked coordinated but not necessarily expensive. Jeans in every silhouette were the uniform of choice, often topped with a long trench coat. Short trenches were popular too. On a cold night, a down jacket did not label you a tourist. A scarf was a must to add color and warmth. The newest trend I spotted were balloon pants, full legs with a cinched ankle, the evolution of last year’s barrels and baggies. They look great with a cropped jacket, and I imagine we will be seeing more of that look next fall along with lower rise straight legs.

I was proud of my travel wardrobe in navy, steel blue, and cream. When I showed my choices to the students in my Artful Personal Style class at the College of Marin the week before, they were impressed, telling me I was going to do American women proud. As I was preparing to go, friends tried to talk me into taking less, but I’m glad I stood my ground and brought with me attractive clothes I knew I would enjoy wearing. Packing extra light felt like unnecessary deprivation, and I was able to manage my suitcases just fine. My travel companion, Shawna, also enjoys dressing well, and it was a shared pleasure to put together outfits that complemented each other.

With my well-chosen trendy layers, I thought I would blend right in, but my long grey hair gave me away.  However, impeccable hair color is not a given, as roots are apparently no big deal. The color also didn’t look as lush and salon luxuriant. Clearly, Europeans have other priorities.

As I traveled South from Paris, my clothes, while pretty and practical, started to feel boring. All those solid colors seemed to lack the necessary verve and spice to express how I was feeling. We rented a small apartment in Villefranche-sur-Mer with a view of the sea, straight out of a Matisse painting. The pastel buildings reflected into the Mediterranean, and blossoming trees were silhouetted against the French Alps. Under blue skies, the light was dazzling. 

This brings me to the real reason I went to France, which was not to see what everyone was wearing but to surround myself with art, color, and to experience life lived in a different rhythm.

By the time I visited the Musée Matisse in Nice, I wanted brighter colors, patterns, and something that better matched the expansive and joyful way I was feeling. 

Most of the shops had astronomical prices far out of my reach, but I found the colorful prints I was craving in a small shop in the hill town village of Eze. New dresses and a pant outfit in a lightweight silk and viscose blend added barely any weight to my suitcase. Even a flowing dress looked just right with my athletic shoes given the cobblestone streets and winding staircases. A shout-out to my new Brooks Glycerin 23’s for carrying me through. 

Now that I’m home, I’m pulling some older clothing in patterned fabrics out of my personal archives and layering necklaces.  Will this new gypsy-like expression of my spirit continue through the summer? I hope so. An adventure like this changes you in the best way, and as always, I’m curious about what I’ll be drawn to next.