Yesterday I did nothing but walk around. I walked and walked and walked. From Musée d'Orsay,  over the Seine, past Jardin des Tuileries. Further past Grand Palais, heading towards Palais de Tokyo. I turn onto a main street at a very relaxed speed, Charles de Gaulle Étoile as my goal, and a funny feeling hits me: I'm walking up George V in my 10 euros a piece ensemble, surrounded by Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Kenzo, Armani, Hermés, Sonia Rykiel, Jean Paul Gaultier, Gianfranco Ferre and Louis Vuitton. And I feel very comfortable. I'm enjoying not going in, not affording, just looking. Window shopping has suddenly become just as fun as the art of shopping itself, if not more so. Fashionable men and women hurry past me in tight suits and high (HIGH) heels and give me strange looks as I smile at them. An occasional "bonjour" leaves my lips and I am lucky to get one back what with all this hastyness. But I do get "bonjours" back.  And I love Paris even more.