When I heard that FLM was doing another fashion issue, I knew it was time for redemption. In the past, I've admitted to being a little clueless about fashion, but this year was different. This year we planned a trip to Paris, and I was sure the City of Light would provide inspiration.

Paris did not disappoint.

Each time I have visited Paris – first as a new college graduate, then years later with the man I married, and a year after that as newlyweds – I’ve discovered new things about this beautiful city. Our most recent visit was more than a decade ago, and since then we've had two sons. On this trip, we brought those boys with us, and we did the usual tourist things: Went up the Eiffel Tour, took a boat tour on the Seine, visited museums, and ate more croissants and macarons than is probably healthy. But the best part was the privilege of seeing Paris through their eyes.

They noticed details I hadn’t like cute graffiti drawings and unusual signs, and they pointed out every dog we saw (there are a remarkable number of dogs in Paris). On our first morning, we giggled at two pigeons spinning around and around and around as we enjoyed our croissants and café together.

As often as I could, I settled into a streetside table at a café and began my favorite pastime in Paris: People watching. But this trip, I had a fashion assignment. Each day I observed fashion choices that were completely unlike what I knew in the US.

I saw almost no 'athleisure' wear from anyone who wasn't quite obviously a tourist. No joggers, no sweatpants, no hoodies, no Crocs, thankfully. The color palette was the usual classic Parisian chic black with gorgeous bold accents: fiery magenta jackets, plaids shot with cobalt blue and vibrant flower prints with chartreuse green leaves.

Nobody wears black like Parisians. The standard uniform was well-cut, wide-leg black pants, breaking just over the shoe with spotless white leather sneakers, a practical and stylish solution to navigating the city's obstacles of stairs and cobblestone streets. Very few jeans; no leggings. If people went to the gym, you'd never know it from their clothing.

Black motorcycle jackets with silver zippers were another popular choice, often worn with those impeccable black pants and classic white T-shirts.

But as with Paris itself, the exceptions from the fashion classics keep things interesting.

I saw bold plaids layered over florals and classic black trousers paired with heavy black combat boots. The contrasts were unexpected and exciting

Paris itself is always an inspiration, even in the most unexpected places.

The city has a chain story named Monoprix, which is basically the Target of France, but with an extensive, glorious fromage counter and no $2 section. One thing it does have is a fantastic clothing department, and I found a classic, blue- and white-striped shirt I couldn't resist.

You know the one: Picasso wore it in 1952 when he was photographed by Robert Doisneau. It's called the Breton striped shirt, and it became the official uniform for French seamen in Brittany in 1858. Picasso's was designed by Coco Chanel herself, and the 21 horizontal stripes represent each of Napoleon's victories.

What I thought was just a standard French cliché has a rich history, inspired by a country, designed by an artist for another artist. Ultimately, it became symbolic of elegant French style. I learned all this a few days after my Monoprix purchase during a visit to the Picasso Museum. An entire room there is dedicated to these black and white photographs featuring a playful 72-year-old Picasso. The ceiling is covered in these iconic shirts, and the walls are dusty blue.

The walls in another room are covered by wallpaper strips in contrasting patterns, discordant but beautiful. It reminded me of the mismatched styles I saw on the street – flowers, striped, plaid – which should have been totally wrong but instead were perfection. Coco Chanel once said, “Fashion fades, only style remains the same.”

Perhaps those wearing the fashions I observed were inspired by this room, or maybe it was the other way around?

The morning of the day before we departed my older son and I were sitting in a café when he asked me what I thought was the best part about the trip.

I paused a moment, and it struck me that I, like fashion itself, had changed so much in the 30 years since I first set eyes on this magical city. But Paris itself would always be herself: Elegant and classic, and yet somehow always new and exciting and evolving. I told him it was hard to pick, that I loved so many things: the Monets, the food, the architecture, all of that. I asked him what his favorite thing was, and he didn’t hesitate.

The dancing pigeons, he said. No question.

Art, and fashion, as they say, are in the eye of the beholder.

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This essay also appeared in the April 2024 issue of FLM - Fete Lifestyle Magazine.