Paris is a shopper's mecca. Except that I'm more T.J. Maxx than Christian Dior. Kim Kardashian can swipe her credit card as often as she likes every time she visits the fashion capitol of the world but I can't, won't, and don't want to.
What's a girl to do? Lucky for me, I enjoy looking every bit as much as buying. The French call it window licking (faire du leche vitrine) and I'm pretty much an expert. The window displays are so gorgeous or outrageous, (or both) I feel lucky they don't charge admission just to look. They dazzle, provoke, entice. Let them eat cake.
That's Sara's puppy Moose proudly wearing her Hermès scarf. He's a cutie even without the designer duds. In my book, The Paris Effect (shameless plug here), Susanne's whole trip to Paris is centered on her desire to shop. She equates happiness with spending and comes off pretty shallow and nasty but soon sweetens up as she realizes dollars and euros don't make up for finding peace and friendship. The Paris effect and the magic of the city help Susanne discover her true self as she discovers the OTHER joys of Paris.