Paris Journal: American Style

What’s the first word that comes to mind when I say “Paris”? If it’s not Hemingway or Hilton, it’s probably “fashion.” Then why did a French woman in my conversation group yesterday say “Americans don’t care about French clothes anymore, do they?”

“Are you kidding?” I said. “France is the style capital of the world.”

“Maybe when it comes to designers like Chanel,” she said. “Haute couture. But that’s not what people wear on the street.”

What do they wear? Here’s a list, according to the chic French women in my group, of the hot items in Paris this season.

Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirts. Every time I’ve strolled the Champs Elyssees, I passed an inexplicable half-block-long line that led to a mysterious, unmarked building. What could it be? It wasn’t listed in any of my guidebooks. Yesterday, I discovered it wasn’t a tourist attraction at all, but the line to buy Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirts. Who knew these ordinary items, available at any mall in America, would be seen as such a status symbol here?

Franklin & Marshall gear. For months I’ve noticed young hipsters wearing t-shirts, sweatshirts, and baseball caps with the logo of this small, liberal arts college located in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Do French people think it’s like Harvard? I wondered. When I asked my conversation groupees, they said they didn’t even know Franklin & Marshall was a college. They thought it was just a trendy brand of clothing.

Teddies. And I don’t mean lingerie. A “teddie,” I was told, is a jacket with white leather sleeves and red wool on the chest. “What an odd idea,” I said, until I realized what they were describing: a varsity jacket. When I told my friends what it was, they laughed. They had no idea this cutting-edge fashion item was just a knock-off from high school sports.

Merrell sandals. These are still not fashionable here in Paris, but I wish they were at least available, because I’d like to buy a pair to wear during my trip to Florida next week. It’s the twice-yearly, mandated-by-national-law season of sales in France, so it would be the perfect time to buy. (“In some ways, Paris fashion is still orthogonal to that in Key West,” my husband said. I love when he talks Math like that.)

I guess I’ll buy a pair of sports sandals in the U.S. While I’m at it, I should go to a mall and fill my suitcase with Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirts, then sell them for twice the price on the street. With the profits I might be able to buy my first piece of actual haute couture.