Despite its proximity to London, I’ve been to Paris only a handful of times. But my memories of each visit are very vivid. There was the cruise on the Bateaux Mouches with my mother, when I wore hibiscus pink leather shoes and ate frog legs for the first time. There was the most perfect tarte tatin shared with Jason at a bistro in the latin quarter. We had an argument in the street on the way home, which felt very nouvelle vague. Jason bought me Stephane Kelian shoes and an Eres bra on that trip. Our second visit, eight years later, was equally exciting. This time, I was four months pregnant with our first baby and buying D cup braziers at Le Bon Marché. Somewhere in between the Bateaux Mouches and Le Bon Marché, were two school trips with my very best friends. There was a rather major spat in the Lalique room at the Musee D’Orsay, but other than that we all got on swimmingly. If I recall, we spent most of our free time, sitting in tabacs painting our nails (Chanel had just launched Rouge Noir) eating Camembert and smoking Gauloise. I’d like to take my girls there one day. Maybe we’ll get on the Bateaux Mouches and look at Renoirs, or maybe we’ll sit in cafes and eat cheese all day.