A Dream in Paris

                           

 

Call me stupid, silly, underachieving, flunky and unapologetic but all I really wanna do is drop out of college and start leading an exciting life.

 

                                

As I've said before, I was suppose to go to Japan. I was supposed to be smacked dabbed for Tokyo Fashion Week, #100Tokyo, #CoolJapan and be on a week long crazy adventure. 12 hours away, working through my entire spring break, only to take a few hours away to enjoy the pre-bloom of Japanese Cherry Blossoms.

 

                          

 

Welp, if you follow me on Instagram, you obviously know that didn't happen. 4 days before take off, my plans got canceled and hastily re-arranged. I got 2 working efforts that paid off somehow someway. I may not be a famous blogger but hell I know how to get places.

 

                       

One of the locations I went to was Paris, France. I went with lexss than a hundred bucks in pocket, a carry-on full of clothes, a hotel reservation, and a bit of crappy French and Creole.

 

 

                        

 

I can read French fluently but I can't really speak it. I kinda assumed that there would be a big Haitian population concentrated in one area. I found out from a random Haitian-French man on the train that no such things exist and unlike in New York, the Haitian population is spread out and their customs are often churned out. Luckily my creole is somewhat similar to the French of Cote-de-Ivory so I managed to get around only speaking Creole.

 

My mission was to attend a few shows, style-spot what Parisians wear, and overall get inspired by Parisans as a whole. I had only 3 days to make this opportunity into a grand scheme. I took a lot of inspiration from my favorite bloggers who had also made the trip. Primarily Yutaki and Michelle Phan.

                            

 

I had to make the best of what little money I had. No food could cost more than 3 euros and I avoided buying drinks in excess. Most meals costed around 10 euros. I tried to refrain from spending more than 4. Subways, Mcdonalds, and Crepe stands were the wave. Who cares if I missed out on authentic French cuisine, I wasn't on a pleasure trip  anyway.

 

I often had to think twice about eating.

Just note that their porta-potties are way better than ours.

                         

 

I honestly don't know why but I have a tendency to stick out everywhere I go. I got stopped everywhere I went. 

 

                                            

I got photographed several times.



People automatically assumed I was French too, in highly populated tourist areas. I don't know if that was common or not but I could sense a bit of annoyance accompanied by my broken French.

 

 

But one things was for certain, things did change after this trip. For one I can't stand people strolling in the city. Unlike in Manhattan, where people do take their time walking, Parisians walk extremely fast and their bags will hit you if you are in their way. A brief "pardon" and the zoom off. 

 

But more importantly, inspiration was drawn upon. For some reason I didn't find France very romantic like I did for Washington, DC. I found it ambitious and aesthetic. Fashion is different from the states and I was lucky to pack clothes that stood in a bit more. The French are proud in their oxfords, bright scarfs and simple silhouettes. Their silhouettes are flowy and portray a bit of fleeting freedom and yet personify their emotions. I was expecting them to wear a lot more black but instead they wore rustic colors and pastels.

 

And love was a matter of identity. Love was unspoken but can be seen. I saw a lot of different couples. I was in awe at the amount of bi-racial couple I saw and the amount of nannys stringing along a fleet of children. Love was personified in their art. Romance was found in their food. Everything showed the romance of the creation and their creator. 

                           

Still, Paris was not a romantic place  per say. Maybe if I was on a pleasure trip I would be saying something different but I didn't feel it. I felt more artistically inspired.

                   

 

What inspired me the most was the Jardin du Luxemburg. We skipped out on Versailles and took on this free alternative. 

                        

 

In France, spring had only just entered with some temps in the low 60s but Jardin du Luxemburg would make you think we were well into April. Flowers in full bloom everywhere, Kids running and playing meanwhile adults enjoyed their jog or conversation and a picnic. 

      

 

 This was the most romantic place I visited in all honestly. It was pure in unusual ways. It was obviously well taken care of.

                    

Now you must be asking. What will I do with this unkept creativity and what was the final product of my trip to France? Welp, you'll find out soon and I can basically totes that you will love it.

Adieu mes amis. S'il vous plaît aller me suivre sur  instagram, twitter, et tumblr pour mises à jour quotidiennes <3

Navel Piercing

I was never too into the whole body modification scene. I always did think tattoo were cool but I never imagined that someday I would get a real one. I always did have a morbid fear of pain. When I was younger I remember accidentally watching LaToya Jackson spazzing out while getting her belly button pierced so I was always scared of piercings. I had my lopes pierced since I was young and no longer remember any discomfort. My parents are also firmly against any type of body modification. My mom's always trying to dissuade me from everything with the craziest excuse (like piercings hurt a whole ton and the area is just gonna get infected and fall off) but this is the same person that told me that splits would rip my vagina and heels would make my period worst because I'm tall (btw I'm only 5'6 I'm not monster tall).

There is nothing wrong with being regular height

It's not like I always wanted my belly pierced. I always wanted a monroe piercing or a nose piercing and even a tongue piercing. Belly piercing was just something that was just floating around me consistently. 

My favorite blogger, Xiaxue had one.

The Queen Beyonce has one.

 

Two of my friends got theirs done recently so I started to like em but I had one problem... Err fat stomach.

The surest sign of a ratchet.

I literally spent over a year deciding on this. In the end,  I was like, it's my body, fuck it and let me do whatever I want. Belly rings are super cute and I wanted something that would cover my ugly belly button.

So without my mother knowing knowing, I took the train to Fordham, Bronx after class (the day after the train derailment on a close by train line wtf) and went to a piercing place walking distance (Marion's Tattoos) from the station. I got to the piercing place and they told me the piercer left for the day FML. I was so pissed because I had set up an appointment and everything and I wasn't planning on returning to Bronx anytime soon. I remembered that many people mentioned Hectors as where they got piercings done. There's even youtube videos up from people's visits at his parlor.

He was really cool and very thorough in explaining everything. Took 5 minutes and he only charged me $25!! In the metro-suburbs that I live in it cost $35 plus an extra fee for the jewelry. The pain wasn't much but it was a tid bit sore all day (mostly because my stomach rolls were bouncing piercing back and forth every time I sat down. The best part is Hector recommends to back for a check up in 3 weeks and he gives you 2 free rings if you do as well as change the ball/ring during the session. To avoid an infection I will probably only change the ball.

The instagram pic I posted that day. I also had my tat touched up.

I'm super stressed about avoiding getting sick and keeping the piercing clean (which has already proven to be a challenge). So far, I've been doing good and it's no longer sore. My only concern is that I dance so the sweat and the constant core movement might effect my healing process.

Me dancing the week I got my belly pierced, no photoshop wtf.

 Usually my belly ring is more of a private thing and I dont show it off.
What's next? Maybe I won't punk out of getting my industrial, maybe I'll even get my nipple pierced (haha fuck no, me=morbid fear of pain). Who knows whats next on the spontaneous-living-for-the-moment-college-life.