Sezane cardigan
Zara jeans (similar)
Zara sandals (similar)
Mango belt
Sezane handbag
Celine necklace (similar)
Wolf Circus necklace
Linjer rings (c/o)
Mejuri earrings (similar)
Location: Musee Carnavalet – Paris, France
Paris, May 28, 2023
Dear friends,
Have I told you the reality of our winter spent living in Paris? Maybe I’ve scratched the surface of it, but I don’t think I’ve gone much further. It’s being back in our old neighbourhood, wandering the Musee Carnavalet, that reminds me of it.
We’d spent a little less than three months in Paris in 2009 and always hoped that someday, we’d be able to stay longer. When Ian decided to go to culinary school, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to make that dream a reality. But the reality of going to culinary school in Paris as an international student is that it comes with a hefty price tag… in what is already among the most expensive cities in the world. It was still the best time of my life, but not that best and easiest aren’t synonymous. We made it work because we were determined to, perhaps stubbornly so.
The winter is never my favourite time of year, although it’s lovelier in Paris than almost anywhere else. That year, it was dark, cold and intensely rainy. We lived in a newly renovated apartment in a drafty old building where the heat didn’t do enough to keep the damp out, so I shivered my way through many days working from home. And my work couldn’t be described as steady. I couldn’t get a work permit in France, so I relied on my blog and freelance writing jobs for income. In the spring, I landed a gig with a major digital publication that paid well, but inconsistently, no matter how consistently I met deadlines. I spent a disproportionate amount of time chasing after money I was owed for work long since completed. In the second half of the year, Ian earned internship pay – about 460 euros a month. It helped.
But even with some money coming in, there was no way we could keep a balance. Money flowed out at least twice as fast as we earned it. We could afford to spend about forty euros a week on groceries. Leftovers from the restaurant where Ian interned were a gift. When they weren’t available, I confess that I often ate… minimally during the week in case we wanted to cook a nicer meal on the weekend. I came up with all kinds of – not actually money saving, but money diverting schemes like that. Through those winter months I also gave up my monthly metro pass, and limited myself to a book of metro tickets weekly, which was much more affordable… but also meant I had to walk anywhere I wanted (or needed) to go five days a week. I spent a lot of time at home working.
…and when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I went out somewhere nearby, where entry was free. The Musee Carnavalet was a favourite, because it was just ten minutes from home and, while also often cold and dark, I could wander there for as long as I liked at no charge, feeling like I was enjoying the wonder Paris offers.
I don’t regret any of it, honestly. I forced myself to be creative, and come to love some places and things that I would likely never have given much consideration as a result. With that said, in retrospect, I realise that I probably could have loosened my grip on my purse strings just a little bit without doing too much damage. We had exactly three thousand dollars in the bank when we returned to Canada. It was enough to keep us afloat, with my freelance earnings, until we both found jobs again.
In the intervening years, we’ve come back to the Musee Carnavalet occasionally, but the reality is, I know the exhibits by heart because I spent so much time here that year. And in a city filled with museums, I try to prioritise visiting those displaying works that are new to me. But it’s such an interesting experience to return periodically and see how things change while staying the same. The exhibits in the museum, which houses a collection focused on Paris history, are as they always were. But there’s a bay of self-serve lockers now, where the cloakroom used to be and a new, modern staircase leading upstairs at one end. The garden, which I remember as a tranquil oasis that was perfect for capturing outfit photos, is now home to a beautiful, and bustling, outdoor cafe.
I’ll always love the Musee Carnavalet, not just because of its exhibits but because it was such a wonderful refuge from reality that one rainy winter that I spent as a Parisian, the reality of which was not as glamorous as I’d imagined it would be.
