It's been a year of that for me. Saying yes. Living in the moment. Spending my time outside, with friends and family and great people, all the time, instead of at home being a reclusive nerd. It was exhausting at times, I'll admit, but it was endlessly rewarding. I'll likely calm down in the New Year (about damn time) and not plan out every second of my life but I don't regret living that way for a year. I've strengthened bonds and done fun things and been new places and, sometimes, I've been spontaneous in the way that I've always wanted to be. Which is how I ended up booking a 24 hour trip to Paris, simply to say goodbye to a clothing store.
Colette closes its doors for good tomorrow and when I found that out, I was impossibly sad. It was the end of the era. The end of one of the coolest boutiques the world has ever known. I was never going to take another goofy photo underneath the sign, pointing up and grinning over our shared names. I would never again marvel over cool things I couldn't afford in the store or pick out a magazine from the incredibly hip curation of publications or wonder if getting one of the lucky bags was worth it. I wouldn't get to say goodbye.
I briefly entertained flying in for a visit to say my farewells but a browse of the websites of the airlines connecting Paris and Dublin made it apparent that it would be far too expensive. I moved on with my day, gradually coming to think that the whole idea was silly in the first place. Flying into another country for a day to say goodbye to a shop? What kind of madness was that? I forgot about the whole thing.
Then, some weeks later, Ryanair announced a sale on their site and I looked again, out of curiosity. 56 quid return journey. Doable. The price of taking a train to Galway for a night...I contacted a friend to see if he could put me up for the night and, suddenly, an hour later, my mad trip to Paris to say goodbye to a clothing store with the same name as me was happening.
When I told people, they frowned in confusion or laughed and waved a hand at me like, 'Oh, Colette, you're so silly'. My best and most supportive friend cheered me on for going for it. I didn't really care either way. It was something I wanted to do and I hated the idea of the store being gone forever and my regret at never having seen it again, at not being able to change that if I didn't go for it, at not being brave enough to say, "Fuck it. Why not?" one last time this year.
Cue Thursday last week and landing at Beauvais just before 11. I cursed Beauvais many times over the trip (as I always do, that goddamn shed) and flying there did cause several ordeals, even if it was the only viable option. An hour's bus to Paris, the confusion of trying to remember where the Metro station was at Porte Maillot, being mistaken for a local by several people who tried to ask me for directions in French, shaking my head wildly as I tried to remember what French hasn't melted out my ears over the years, finding the Metro, planning a route, discovering my stop was closed, getting off a the next stop in a panic, being unsure of how to proceed, stumbling across some Brits who turned out to be going the same way and finally ending up at my friend's house.
After all of that panicking, said friend welcomed me with Champagne (he'd gone to an acquaintance's vineyard and stocked up over the summer - as one does), fresh pastries and hours of conversation, despite the fact that we hadn't actually seen each other in years and the fact that he had work in the morning. While the whole trip was a little mad and fun and I got to hang around in Paris instead of going to work on a Friday, it was the people that made it for me.
When we finally went to sleep, I told him to wake me when he was leaving for work so I could say goodbye and thank again but the sweet baby angel that he is, he left me to sleep on until friend number two arrived. Said friend number two then acted as my guide for the day, having lived in the city for several years now. We rounded the corner and breakfasted outside with pastries and coffee (well, tea for me) as French schoolchildren shouted what English they could think of at us. So began one of the few times I've had 8 or more hours of unadulterated catch-up time with a pal as an adult and it was beautiful. It always is. You get to topics normally never broached and ideas you've barely ever even voiced to yourself before. We talked and walked all day so that, by the end of it, we were both hoarse and almost hobbling but it was worth it.
After exploring for an hour, we headed to Colette. It was abuzz with people though it has only just opened for the day but I expected as much. This was always the case, even when it wasn't days from closing permanently. We dashed around and I picked up a limited edition tee and a Glossier Cloud Paint (in Haze) and a small present for my blog wife. We marvelled at the Saint Laurent roller-skate heels and the courtyard full of Christmas trees and the cool books and wildly expensive things that we couldn't even identify. I got my last picture in front, though the name had been removed from over the door so I had to pose with the word "Colette" painted low on the window, between my legs. That, in of itself, was gas though and we laughed as people looked on, confused. I have few photos of myself where I'm genuinely laughing that I don't hate and while this one is definitely goofy, I quite like it.
After visiting the store, we went to the Medieval quarter of the city, Le Marais, strolling past the Pompidou, and had falafel in the place across the road from the "best in the world", as it didn't have a line, is apparently just as good (my friend had tried both) and the people inside weren't being as damn pushy. Then we wandered some more shops and the area more before heading to the Louvre. I really wanted to go to the Dior exhibition there but there was a two hour line and we were running short on time so, instead, we just went to the gallery proper. I had never been before and was pretty excited but we were exhausted by this point and each kept whining about our feet being tired. Despite this, it was fun to wander around, discuss art (and my favourite debate topic of the moment: Can memes be art?), and see the Venus de Milo, Da Vinci's "Virgin of the Rocks" (my favourite) and Raphael's "Baldassare Castiglione" IRL.
Then, sadly, time had well and truly run away from us and it was time to say goodbye so I got some food, headed back to Beauvais (ugh), stocked up on some Champagne in duty-free (yay) and embarrassed myself by trying to use my very poor Korean to tell the girl queueing in front of me that her bag was super cute (double ugh) and began the long-ass trip home.
Over in the blink of an eye but well worth it! I said my goodbye to a beautiful store that I loved, sure, and that was the reason for the trip but I got a lot more from it. Fondest memories were made and I was the kind of spontaneous that I normally only see in the (far too many) movies I have watched growing up. Life can actually be quite grand and magical in its own little ways sometimes, as long as you embrace it and just say, "Fuck it. Why not?"
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