Ps. Can anyone name the cinema that was photographed and mentioned in The New Paris?

When I turned fourteen, I realized, perhaps for the first time, that my future would be less vibrant than I imagined. Cinema Variety, where I grew up spending my weekends, was shut down and replaced by a supermarket chain. I was crushed. Florence, once the cradle of the Renaissance, is a city prepared to sell off each of its neighborhoods to the highest bidder. Because of gentrification and globalization, the Florentine cultural scene has gradually become flatter; local shops get pushed out by cheap steakhouses, fast food chains and fake leather shops. Every possible contemporary art exhibition is greeted with timid smiles by the few remaining residents left in the city center, still anchored in the fifteenth century. Among the businesses that have suffered the most, it was the film industry that gave me the sense that Florence’s future would be full of supermarkets and KFCs, not cinemas. Since 2010, almost half of the city’s cinemas have shut down and the few remaining are either half-empty independent movie theaters or multiplexes showing only the most commercial films on the market.

I’m thirty now and no longer living in Florence. After a few years studying and working across Stockholm, New York, and Milan, I moved to Paris in 2024. Once I settled in, I realized what it really means to live in a city that prioritizes a balance between mass tourism and a living local culture. I found the Ville Lumière to be among the most successful at resisting the homogenizing pull of mass tourism, and part of that includes protecting cinemas. Since 2010, less than ten percent of them have shut down, largely because locals still love going to the movies and consider supporting them as a moral obligation. France was the only major film market in Europe where attendance grew in 2024, with almost half of tickets sold going to French movies.

Cinémas d’art et d’essai are still everywhere in Paris and because of that, moviegoers are gently encouraged to watch old and magnificent movies by Ingmar Bergman, Billy Wilder, and Alfred Hitchcock instead of the thirty-seventh Marvel chapter. One of the real declarations of love for cinema is offered by Paris Ciné Info, a very pragmatic and easy-to-use website to check showtimes. You can search movies based on the day, new releases, languages, and other filters, including the cinema card. In an effort to focus my attention on getting the most out of this city and its vibrant culture, I cancelled my Netflix subscription, which was honestly only useful to me for rewatching The Office for the fifteenth time and Zerocalcare’s series. Instead, I got myself a UGC Illimité card, a wonderful membership that allows me to see films at every UGC and Mk2 cinema as many times as I want, but above all to get into practically all the cinémas d’art et d’essai—for only 20€ a month. It was a no-brainer.

Now, I go to the movies at least once a week. With tickets costing 13€ on average, getting the pass was the smartest thing I could do. It’s what got me to spend a wonderful Wednesday evening watching Psycho for the first time at the cozy Ecoles Cinéma Club, The Last One for the Road at the Cinéma Saint-André des Arts on a Saturday morning, and Mulholland Drive at the Studio Galande. Next week, I have plans to see A Fistful of Dollars by Sergio Leone at the Studio des Ursulines.

The people who go to these cinemas sit in reverent silence, as if inside a temple, to enjoy high-quality masterpieces--maybe because they are incurable romantics waiting for a future far from smartphones and closer to Midnight in Paris, where you might find a very drunk Hemingway stumbling around the fifth arrondissement. Perhaps the audience wishes they lived in an era where cinemas were still a fun outing among friends and not just a place to find the rare few who enjoy movie more than Hyrox.

These people, myself included, will typically walk out of the cinema and immediately start scrolling through their Instagram feeds, looking for something to blame the present for, while gearing up to lecture their partners, who skipped the film entirely, about how much better life was when Hitchcock was alive— never mind that they weren’t even born yet. So long as Paris fights to keep its arthouse cinemas open, hopefully inspiring other European cities to follow suit, we can remain calm, place our faith in humanity, and pray that AI doesn’t strip our ability to argue about it. Lunga vita al cinema!

KEEP READING (& LISTENING)

• A new look for the Elysées Lincoln theater

• What the New Wave cinema movement tells us about contemporary France

• Louvre heist will be turned into a film (of course)

• Saved by fans, historic Paris arthouse cinema La Clef reopens

Thanks for reading! If you think a friend would enjoy The New Paris Dispatch or this series, gift subscriptions are available here | Order copies of my books The New Paris, The New Parisienne, and The Eater Guide to Paris.

FRENCH ARTIST JR WRAPS UP THE PONT NEUF (YAY OR NAY?)

I have a chat group with a few friends, one of whom is a contemporary art specialist guide. Naturally, when JR’s La Caverne du Pont Neuf came into conversation— it’s been in preparation for the last week— some members of the group conveyed their lukewarm feelings about the installation. I wanted her to weigh in.

For background, the trompe l’oil-loving artist has transformed Paris’s oldest bridge with an inflatable cavernous piece that is meant to pay homage to the work of artist Christo and Jeanne-Claude (who famously “wrapped” Pont Neuf in 1985) and reference the limestone quarries of Paris that were used to build the city and the bridge. “It’s meant to get people to look again at something they perhaps stopped paying attention to. It’s meant to be disruptive, which can evoke good or bad responses! It’s not only being modified to be “beautiful” said Alexandra Weinress of The Seen Paris.

Once fully complete, the public will be able to venture inside of the cave-like structure where a sound component was contributed by ex-Daft Punk artist and musician Thomas Bangalter. Visitors should also be able to meander through with an AR experience designed for mobile devices.

Paris loves a happening (and our leaders will always say they represent a new chance to draw eyeballs to the city that… already draws a zillion eyeballs) so for me, it fits into an artistic spectacle that is less about the merits of the work itself than the spectacular nature of the piece. What do you think?

LE BUS IS BACK

I love the stories from the beginnings of Bus Palladium, the grungy punk rock club born in Pigalle. It’s wholly lost its edge, which some will take issue with, but it is no longer a shell of a place nor a construction zone. It lives anew as an excellent cocktail bar, restaurant, and hotel with a fully refurbished club and concert venue. It fits neatly into a neighborhood which long lost its sleaze. It was bound to happen, sadly.

Even if you’re not interesting in concerts or clubbing (I’m down for the former), the bar is great. Go early/pre-dinner.

Read my full review for Travel & Leisure.

NEW PHOTO EVIDENCE OF THE GREEN TICKET ROUNDUP, PARIS 1941

It never gets easier to see imagery from this time but it is so important that we continue to expose ourselves to it. On May 14, 1941, 3,700 foreign Jewish men were summoned (with a notice (on green paper) by police to the 11th arrondissement for what they believed to be an identity check. Instead, they were held in the Gymnase Japy. It was a trap, one that became among the very first roundups of Jews in France.

We know more about that particular period in 1941 thanks to 98 never-before-seen photographs on display at the Shoah Memorial in Paris. They were taken by a half-Jewish Nazi propagandist photographer named Harry Croner who was deported to a labor camp a few months after taking the photographs, before later being taken prisoner by the Americans.

Lior Lalieu, head of the photo library at the Shoah Memorial, told France Culture that “there were 69 assembly points in Paris, notably the Japy Gymnasium, the largest, because we are in the 11th arrondissement, where the concentration of the foreign Jewish population is the highest in Paris.” As shown in the photographs, women were not arrested and deported (though they would be the following year) but were instrumental in the trap. Women accompanying their husbands were told to prepare a small suitcase of belongings and when they returned, they realized their partners had been arrested. “You can see the shock and despair on their faces, women pleading with the police… You can see the tragedy of this roundup,” says Lalieu.

Read the New York Times piece on the topic by Jean-Marc Dreyfus, Holocaust historian and co-curator of the exhibition.

MICHELIN’S GREEN STAR IS NO MORE

Perhaps it was flawed from the start but the green Michelin star is no more. Hundreds of restaurants around the world rewarded for their environmental efforts—low-waste cooking, preserving biodiversity— will be stripped of their green star by the end of this year as the guide retires the prize after only six years. Instead of working to fix the major shortcomings in the system (most notably that inspectors were not evaluating restaurants’ sustainability initiatives in a meaningful way nor finding ways to assess in regions with different standards; restaurants filled out a questionnaire about their practices), they’re dropping the whole thing at a time when sustainability in food is more necessary than ever. It feels even more like a botched opportunity given that Michelin announced it would, instead, launch a vague editorial platform called “Mindful Voices”, focused on “all those who inspire across the universes of gastronomy, hospitality and vineyards.”

Thanks to journalist and author for flagging this was developing before anyone else. Several months ago, he noticed that Michelin was scrubbing the Green Star listings from its website and search function. Michelin firmly denied it at the time.

HOW TO WATCH “SEARCHING FOR FRANCE”

I know, it’s not as straight forward as logging on to Netflix. Not everyone has cable TV. I’ve been fielding this question a lot and I have a bit more information now that viewers have informed me how they were able to watch. If you’re based in the U.S., you’ll have an easier time of it: CNN will keep rebroadcasting it and it’s also available on their CNN Streaming app. It’s not free but you could sign up for one month, watch the whole thing, and cancel :) Apple TV and Amazon Prime appear to have it for purchase, as individual episodes, though if you’re outside the U.S. it will require a VPN. Thank you for watching!

ELSEWHERE

• Crisis in Paris schools (The Guardian)

• Abort mission, Hollande! (Politico)

• ICE comes to Europe ( at (Re)Voir)

• Oh good, just what Paris needed: a burger des riches! (Reported by ).

• Searching for Solidarity at the Train Station (The Nation)

• On the art of French chocolate (Me! The New Paris podcast)

WHAT YOU MAY HAVE MISSED

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If there is anyone I credit with soothing me after submitting my manuscript for The New Parisienne, it’s Elaine Ng Huntzinger. I had known about her work as a TCM practitioner and acupuncturist through a dear friend who booked me an appointment with Elaine as a hurray! You finished that beast of a book! Now, please, let someone help you relax gift. She absolutely helped me and talked me through how acupuncture could, long term, help me manage my Tourette Syndrome. Her guidance was a gift in more ways than one. We also share a connection to rock climbing— she is an avid climber and in a household of climbers; I am married to one. Today, her work also includes facial rejuvenation, making her one of the toughest specialists to book, for good reason. But what led her to France in the first place? Keep reading.

Where was the last place you lived in the U.S.?
San Diego. I had just finished acupuncture school and had been teaching pilates. I met my husband rock climbing in Greece when I was teaching pilates (in Paris) for a few months. I had taken a break from school to hang out in Paris and work and met my husband in that month. He later moved to San Diego with me for a year while I finished my studies.

Did you intend to leave permanently or was the move temporary?
I intended to leave permanently. I knew intuitively that I was probably never going to return. I had been in and out of France for a while and this time, the conditions were perfect to move there permanently.

Was there a pivotal moment when you knew your life would be best pursued elsewhere?
My husband’s father was diagnosed with cancer and he abandoned his green card process as a result. He wanted to return to France to spend time with his father. I had been on the fence about whether we should stay in California or move to France. I saw this as a sign that it was time to move back to France.

What sort of financial consideration did the move require, even if as a student initially? Does one need a plump savings account to make this work?
I think you either need to have some savings or be with a partner who is able to work in France. You also need to think about what skills you have that could translate into working in the country. We initially moved to Annecy because my husband was working in Geneva. I got bored just hanging out and decided to cold call pilates studios in Geneva. I got a job teaching there and then opened a small studio in Annecy where I also practiced acupuncture. A year later, we moved to Paris where I started working as a pilates instructor. I had started practicing acupuncture while I was teaching pilates in San Diego and essentially translated that model into building my business here.

At what age did you leave? Looking back, was that too soon or too late?
I left at 35 years old. I think it was the perfect time. I had acquired skills that I could translate into work and I was adult enough to hustle for the long term.

When did you know you'd made the right [or wrong] call?
It took a few years, but I think giving birth in a very supportive environment without going broke really showed me I was in the right place.

What does Paris offer you that your native home couldn’t and, perhaps, still can’t?
Paris is visually stimulating and is always changing. I love that culture is a priority and every day you hear about a new exhibition, a restaurant, or a new trend that is emerging. There is enthusiasm for newness with substance and history that San Diego definitely did not possess. Also, I find the quality of food in France is so far superior to anything you can find back home.

Can you share any anecdotes about your highest and lowest moments in Paris?
The highest was probably when my daughter was a newborn and we took her to Versailles for the Murakami exposition there. I was amazed that I was able to participate in an art expo in such a historical environment with my child who would be brought up in a world full of culture and beauty.

My lowest was walking home from dinner and seeing people fleeing the Bataclan during the terrorist attack. We heard shots and sirens the entire night. We lived very close to the Bataclan back then. The heaviness in the city was palpable for months after those attacks.

Are there aspects of American life that you long for?
I miss the efficiency and friendliness of most people in stores and restaurants. It is often easier getting things done in the States than in France.

What book or movie do you most associate with the American experience abroad?My first long stay in France, I lived in Aix-en-Provence. The book Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald reminded me of how I felt when I was driving around in the south of France. The film Before Sunrise embodies the feeling of being in Paris for the first time and also the yearning for spontaneous experiences.

If you had to narrow it down to one, what is the greatest lesson living abroad has taught you about yourself and the world?
If you have a clear vision of what you want, you can achieve your goal as long as you remain flexible. You are going to have to modify, tolerate, and adapt to the social norms, laws, and culture. Also, you need to learn the language.

Have you ever considered going back? (Why or why not)
Not since having a child. She has had a great private bilingual education here that is very affordable. Also, the health care system here is accessible and efficient. After being here for more than 20 years, I can see how France, despite many social issues, still chooses to take care of its citizens versus serving only the privileged class.

For those contemplating leaving the U.S., what do you suggest they consider most about the decision?
Make sure you really understand why you want to leave. I would not cut ties 100% with your home country, at least for a few years, in case you want to go back. Just like home renovations, life renovations will take far more time and patience than you realize.

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She had me join her for the conclusion with the supremely talented chef Eric Ripert (and another surprise guest!) and I’m really eager to see how it all turned out! Tune in to see the show Searching for France on CNN at 9pm or as of tomorrow on the CNN streaming app.

And now, my five recommendations of the moment in Paris!

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When I arrived in 2006, public displays of physical exertion were maligned, as was wearing anything resembling sportswear. Wear sneakers, spandex, and an oversized sweatshirt outside of the home, even if to walk to the gym 100 meters away? Blasphemous. For years, I was a member at Club Med Gym at République and watched men run on treadmills in Converse sneakers and women who lived mere blocks away arrive in the locker room in full makeup, spend ninety minutes on the elliptical in lacy bras and slow-drying fabrics, and leave after slathering themselves in anti-cellulite cream. A French friend at the time insisted that performative workout culture was “so American”. Any Parisians exercising in public were the exception—serious athletes, a category unto themselves.

That was twenty years ago. Now, nearly everyone is wearing sharp-looking trainers everywhere from work to dinner parties. Parisians run all-terrain and cycle religiously. The week of snow we had in January? They were out trudging through it in shorts. The Seine flooding a couple of months ago barely slowed anyone down. Among the other things that have noticeably changed: Women are (finally) weight-training. Some have joined the cult of Pilates; others swear by thrice-weekly ninety-minute sessions at Jivamukti on the Canal. Hoka, the Annecy-born brand now hosting running clubs, pop-ups across the city, and even its own half marathon, has become the Veja of the running world.

If you come to Paris regularly, you’ve surely seen this shift. And the data backs it up: according to a health and sport report published by Ipsos in January, the time spent on fitness has doubled in ten years, with 72% of French people engaging in some form of physical activity, a record high outside of Covid lockdown periods. The benefits to our overall health and wellbeing are well known and documented, so what else has driven the about-face? I went straight to my friend , a brilliant fashion journalist, author and professor whose work digs into the social and cultural underpinnings of what we wear, how we wear it, and who produces it, to discuss.

L: Mélody, what’s going on here? Paris has always had serious athletes but the idea of exercising and publicly displaying the trappings of sportswear was anathema to Parisianess. Is what we’re seeing the downstream effect of athleisure on the runway or the globalization of wellness culture?
M: I like this question and the fact that it also shows the tension between two types of performance: physical and aesthetic. For the forler, I think COVID lockdowns, where we were kept inside for ages, really changed our understanding of the outdoors. That’s not only true for Paris, of course, but it gave Parisians a sense of what it means to be mobile, outside. Our understanding of the relationship between body and mental health has improved, which is good since burnout is rampant in the city.

At the same time, our understanding of “clubbing” changed. Many nightclubs in Paris have closed and seem to have been replaced by sports clubs. Sports brands like Jah-Jah Studio, Klättermusen, Nike, American Vintage, and La Sportiva began creating their own clubs to foster community, belonging, and wellness. I think Parisian culture really shifted as a result. Added to this is a growing reluctance to drink and smoke: two of the most persistent stereotypes about Parisian culture. All of my friends either stopped drinking or put some “rules” in place to regulate their alcohol consumption. I think Parisians, like the rest of the world, want to try different things. That being said, we, French people, are still lousy regarding rules, so I’m really not able to say if it’s something that will last.

Regarding the visibility of sports, the city also created public spaces dedicated to athletic activities, and we’re now in a street-sports era where men often train in public. This has reignited conversations about the gendering of cities. Not so much in terms of safety, but in terms of who public spaces truly belong to.

As for the runway, I don’t really think it impacted the conversation. Of course, there was the gorpcore1 conversation around 2017 (almost a decade, damn!), but it was more about aesthetic, which might have encouraged “real” sports brands to insist on the technicity of their products; the real practicality of them.

L: There’s long been a disdain for American-style workout culture and a feeling that nonchalance mattered more than earnest attempts at physical betterment. To what extent did that have to do with the French perception of beauty? What might have influenced this change?

M: I might not make myself many friends, but I think the American social context is more about “false individuality in order to better fit into the collective,” whereas the French social context is almost the opposite. The so-called Parisian aesthetic that has been repackaged and marketed internationally does exist, but it is far from being the only aesthetic expression of people here.

That said, there is still a certain distrust of the whole “beauty” discourse, which many find quite distasteful. We’re proud snobs. French people will still roll their eyes if you talk too long about your athletic performances if you’re not an athlete, which is also because it’s just not that interesting. Personally, having people explain to me how good they feel after their workout or from biking around the city is the conversational equivalent of starting a sentence with, “According to ChatGPT…”.

L: As a writer who tracks fashion and cultural movements, how do you think this wellness craze fits into the broader adoption of American cultural products? (Hoka might be French but its sneakers are loud and colorful.)

M: I believe a practical approach has been taken. Still, I’m uncertain whether this is due to American influence or the increased presence of French cultural references that were previously less recognized. I’m thinking specifically of Moncler (from Grenoble) and Salomon (from Annecy). While I wouldn’t argue that we’re not influenced by American culture, there seems to be a desire among the younger generations to have a cultural discourse connected more to regions throughout the country rather than solely from Paris. There was the whole Vogue Paris/Vogue France drama (in 2021, the magazine changed its name to Vogue France and some Parisians felt their identity was being attacked and endangered by Anna Wintour and, by extension, Americans. I would love for it to be an exaggeration, but it’s not. French culture relies on the idea of being an exception—l’exception culturelle française. But to remind people that France is more than just Paris in terms of culture is important). And there was also the rediscovery of cities like Marseille, Annecy, and regions like the Pays Basque. Keep in mind that a lot of people left Paris during COVID—and came back! Ha! That said, the American market remains significant in the fashion and garment industry, which may help explain some of the color choices and overall aesthetics.

L: The urban infrastructure in Paris has evolved tremendously in the 20 years I’ve lived in Paris. Can this shift really be disconnected from those visible changes? (The bike lanes, the pedestrianized riverbanks, the expanded green spaces…)

M: I think the city adapted to what the people were demanding. Paris is a beautiful city, and even though people were fighting Anne Hidalgo a lot about her decisions, she made it more pleasant for a stroll. I’m the caricature of a French party pooper who hates queuing in front of restaurants and piétiner (shuffling): our city is quite small so we feel the growing number of people.

L: Aside from running outdoors, which doesn’t require a membership, regular routines in Paris come with hefty price tags: pilates studios, Barry’s, boxing… is being sporty now another way to flex privilege?

M: I don’t know if it’s privilege (although we could talk about which bodies are being policed in the streets but it certainly became a status thing, which is the most American thing —or should I say, L.A thing?— about this. People think that their bodies have become a reflection of their mind, of who they are. Personally, I think it’s interesting that we always focus and try to control our bodies when fascism arises. It started with women through Ozempic and the whole “Barbie Trump aesthetic”, and now this. I might be reading too much into it but when you speak to people in France about their relationship to sports, the idea of controlling your body and controlling your mind arises. It’s like the world is crumbling before our eyes, so the last thing left in our control is ourselves. I’m not judging (too much LOL); I understand, in a way, but I’m always cautious about mass trends.

L: If you had to guess, would you say the dressed-down aesthetic in Paris— related or unrelated to this sporty shift — will be enduring?

M: I don’t know. With so much happening locally and geopolitically, it’s difficult to predict what kind of shift might occur. Right now, I’m thinking about the rock-indie sleaze influence that is pervasive in fashion brands. When those eras first emerged, “looking good” meant something different than it does today, and sport wasn’t really part of the equation.

Since then, the rise of sportswear and the experience of Covid-19 has made us used to a certain idea of comfort. I like to say we are at a crossroads, where aesthetics and politics point toward two different futures. On the one hand, there is sport as a release and a source of empowerment, suggesting a lifestyle oriented more toward nature and community. On the other hand, there is sport as a tool for controlling the body and mind, aligning with a rock aesthetic that is fixated on appearance, centered on individuality, and driven by the idea of being better than others rather than being with them. I might be oversimplifying, but I don’t think so.

Read more from me and Mélody: we discussed Empire of the Elite earlier this year (en français). Follow Mélody on Instagram.

If you think a friend would enjoy The New Paris Dispatch, gift subscriptions are available here | Order copies of my books The New Paris, The New Parisienne and The Eater Guide to Paris | Pick up a copy of my dining & coffee guide

A quick note: As you may know by now, this Leaving America series emerged from an obsession with understanding and documenting ever-increasing American migration that I initially envisioned as a new book. That didn’t happen but I’ve so enjoyed hearing from adopted French residents in this format. My original idea was never meant to be confined to French borders, however, so I was overjoyed to have the opportunity to go deep and broad on the idea of leaving with a reported essay in the new issue of The Bitter Southerner, a remarkable independent publication based in the American South that doesn’t shy away from the painful but necessary conversations we all need to be having. The piece is now online, it would mean the world if you’d take the time to read it here.

I’m always impressed by Americans in France who find themselves pursuing unconventional career paths or deepening their expertise, disconnected from the corporate world. David Simonson is on such American. A California-born landscape architect and garden designer (or, as the French would say, paysagiste), very much in love with a French woman, he landed in Paris more than fifteen years ago with a landscape degree in hand and the swift realization that he’d need to start over. That was hardly a significant setback. He launched his own studio in 2015 and has subsequently worked across Europe and the Mediterranean, winning numerous prizes, notably at the Chaumont-sur-Loire and the Côte d'Azur Festival competitions.

Where was the last place you lived in the U.S.?
On the corner of Haight and Ashbury in San Francisco. Janis Joplin had lived in the same apartment at one point, which gave it a certain mythology. I shared it with an older gay man named Larry, who had moved in back in 1972. He was full of stories, many of which began with, “This guy I knew…” and often ended with the reminder that the person had passed away. Having lived through that era in San Francisco, and having escaped the worst of the AIDS crisis that devastated so many around him, he carried a remarkable memory of a vanished world.

Did you intend to leave permanently or was the move temporary?
I met a French tourist while living on Haight and Ashbury and found her irresistible. I did not plan on coming back to the U.S. I moved to Paris with everything I owned packed into two suitcases, along with some fishing poles and a skateboard. I told myself I could always head back if France didn’t work out.

Was there a pivotal moment when you knew your life would be best pursued elsewhere?
I graduated in 2008, at what felt like one of the worst possible moments to be looking for work in America. Even with a five-year degree in landscape architecture, I was working at a chocolate shop. Around that time, one of my mentors told me to get out of the States and go to Europe, even if it meant sweeping the streets just to get started. That advice hit me hard. I also think I had always known, on some level, that the less conventional path was the one that suited me best.

What sort of financial consideration did the move require, even if as a student initially? Does one need a plump savings account to make this work?
I arrived in France with only $1,200 in my account, so I was definitely not operating with a large financial cushion. I was going with the flow more than anything else. Fortunately, I found a small job at Rose Bakery for a few months before landing a gardening job with a landscaping company in Saint-Germain-en-Laye. In the end, drive and a willingness to start wherever you can will go a long way.

At what age did you leave? Looking back, was that too soon or too late?
I was 27 and very much in love with my French girlfriend. I can be impulsive, but there was a real connection between us, and I chose to trust my instincts rather than logic or caution. Looking back, the timing felt right. I had just graduated from Cal Poly with a degree in landscape architecture, so studying French at the Alliance Française and the Sorbonne felt like a natural extension of my education. Later, I went on to earn a second degree in garden design in Versailles, so, in hindsight, the move became the foundation for my future as a landscape architect in France. The transition was much more demanding than I had imagined, but it was necessary in order to build a lasting life for myself in this country.

When did you know you'd made the right [or wrong] call?
Definitely no regrets. I felt I had made the right call when I was accepted to the École Nationale Supérieure de Paysage in Versailles. That really confirmed for me that I was in the right place and that things could work out in France as a landscape architect. Being able to study garden design was the perfect complement to my earlier training in California. The cherry on top was winning the competition at the International Garden Festival of Chaumont-sur-Loire in my graduating year.

What does Paris offer you that your native home couldn’t and, perhaps, still can’t?
I grew up in Encinitas, a small coastal town in Southern California. I still love my hometown—its beaches and its desert landscapes—but Paris has given me access to a depth of culture, food, art, and historic landscapes that has been incredibly enriching and deeply satisfying. It has also opened the door to creating gardens in France, across Europe, and internationally, which has been a real advantage as a native English speaker. Just as importantly, raising a family in France feels like a gift. I find the French way of life more balanced than the American one, and I feel fortunate to be bringing up my children in a democratic country that still places real value on liberty, equality, and fraternity.

Can you share any anecdotes about your highest and lowest moments in Paris?
My lowest moment was probably having my application to the landscape design school in Versailles rejected twice. It finally went through on the third attempt, and luckily, I’ve always been stubborn and persistent. In a full-circle twist, I now teach at the university and have done so for several years, alongside running my own garden company. My highest moment was, without question, the birth of my children.

Are there aspects of American life that you long for?
I miss the waves in Encinitas, though I still make it to the ocean whenever I can. I also miss speaking English and spending time with my old friends in California, whom I usually see during my summer vacation. That said, I’ve been lucky to build a small community of American friends in Paris, which has helped me keep that connection alive.

What book or movie do you most associate with the American experience abroad?

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NEW MAYOR, NEW ERA?

I had planned to write a debrief on March 23rd, once Emmanuel Grégoire was announced the city’s new mayor, but I poked myself in the eye while in line to vote the first round, March 15, ended up in the ER (having successfully voted first, of course!) and spent nearly a week in the dark recovering. Recording audio was easier than reading or writing in that first week so if you’re up for listening, here is that post-election debrief I recorded on The New Paris Podcast with the political journalist Léa Chamboncel. For other commentary, don’t miss this one by : Three Things to Know About the New Mayor of Paris.

RELATED…
One of Paris Mayor Grégoire’s plans is to open a second Station F, currently one of the world’s largest startup hubs. In my latest podcast episode with my dear friend Rahaf Harfoush, we speak about France’s approach to tech and innovation and how the model needs to be completely reimagined, particularly given the news (that I first saw reported by French Tech Journal) that a recent study of the European VC-backed unicorn ecosystem shows some seriously sick companies, with France landing #2 on the leaderboard of the fallen. As Rahaf put it to me:

The question she poses during the conversation: what is the innovation thesis of France? What is our vision of the future? What do we want innovation to be?

Our discussion also covers societal turbulence and having no emotional preparedness for the shifts that are taking place nor the ability to grieve what we’re losing. We chat about global interconnection and why that means we cannot speak about the future of France without considering the impact of decisions made much further afield, by other nations. I really hope you’ll give this a listen:

STÉRIN: AU SECOURS!

You’ve all read me rant about billionaires before but some are more nefarious than others. We’ve got Vincent Bolloré who is behind Canal+, CNews, Europe 1 and JDD, and Pierre-Édouard Stérin whose profile in the NYT should raise everyone’s eyebrows. A French hotelier and retail investor I’ve known for years sent me a private note after I shared the profile on Instagram. “I know him. He is NUTS and extremely dangerous. I’m very concerned.”

Some might argue it’s useless to spend your energy worrying about these figures, that pieces like this only serve to stir up fear. I strongly disagree: we must know who are pulling the strings behind the scenes, just like we needed to know (and too many ignored) the power-hungry techno-capitalists in America pulling the strings there. And I think it’s especially important given how many English-speaking/reading foreigners live in France and pay very little attention to policies and ideas that will impact the place they’ve chosen to live. Time to wake up.

20 MILLION EURO APARTMENTS IN PARIS?

A few weeks ago, the FT reported about the city’s foray into catering to the ultra rich. What does that look like, exactly? Well, for starters, the Maybourne St Germain hotel, when opened, will also include 23 residences. Currently, one such three-bedroom residence is listed at nearly 20 million euros.

The launch, one of several new amenity-rich developments due to open by 2027, comes amid a surge in super-prime sales in Paris. Last year’s included a €62.5mn purchase by music producer and Louis Vuitton creative director of menswear Pharrell Williams, and nearly €200mn spent on three homes by the billionaire Arnault family, including a €44mn triplex for Bernard, the family patriarch and chief executive of LVMH. (Financial Times)

The housing crisis and deep wealth disparity remain, unsurprisingly, minor details of the story.

THE ODE TO THE PARIS PHARMACY (and a few personal faves)

Marisa Meltzer’s ode to the Parisian pharmacy in Vanity Fair is one of VERY few I care to read. One big brownie point for the French pharmacy anywhere:

“It turns out not having almost every product locked up as prisoners behind plastic barriers is a much less depressing shopping experience than our pharmacies.”

CVS: RIP.

FWIW, I’m a devoted SVR user (including their sunscreen) but a recent discussion with the skincare gal at the Parapharmacie opposite the Opéra Garnier (which I find less swarming than CityPharma, which the influencers flock to in Saint-Germain) prompted me to try a sunscreen with more hydratation. This recommendation came after she looked at my face and said, “your skin looks thirsty, what did you use today?” It could have been the result of my lapsed routine after the eye incident. Either way, I take sunscreening very seriously so off I went to the register with Filorga’s daily repair mineral UV 50. I can’t say I love it but I’m giving it a chance. She also suggested I try Vichy’s vitamin C, which is concentrated and less expensive than the oil I’ve been using from the UK company Medik8. This one isn’t available in stores, either. (But it was recently acquired by L’Oréal so maybe that will change.) Other things I like for very specific reasons:

• Embryolisse lait-creme: I was skeptical but I applied it every couple of hours on the flight to and from Tokyo and found it very soothing and hydrating. It’s now a permanent member of my trousse de toilette.

• Where are my fellow atopic-skin friends? 👋 I swear by SVR’s huile lavante, a shower oil that protects the skin’s moisture barrier, crucial for excessively dry, itchy skin, but Bioderma, La Roche Posay and Ucerin all make their own, all of which are good. I also have to be religious about hydrating after the shower and tend to use La Roche Posay Urea gel, as strongly encouraged by my dermatologist who checks out every patch of skin each January and can immediately tell whether I’ve been diligent or not. I’d say I’ve been a B student. “Yes, really, every day.”

• My favorite hand cream for winter or during flights (or any dry environment, really) isn’t French at all but Neutrogena’s “Norwegian formula” glycerin-rich cream. Many big pharmacies and parapharmacies in Paris carry it but it’s also available in the U.S.

For everything not carried in pharmacies, I’m fairly brand agnostic, so long as it won’t irritate my sensitive skin. If you’re in the U.S. or the U.K. and have reactive skin or full blown eczema, Tower 28 is excellent. These are the two products I use consistently.

ELSEWHERE

• Keeping the spook alive but updated in the Catacombs (The New York Times)
  Lined from floor to ceiling with bones of some 6 millions people, the Paris catacombs have been given a much-needed face lift. Check out how it was done.

• Lest you thought “French girl style” was anything but a business strategy (Vogue Business)

• Related: every year, a new one of these, all for traffic and clicks. I know this is how the internet works but that doesn’t make it any less exhausting. (Elle)

• Paris dining: a few new/new-ish options (by me for The Infatuation)

• What defines French interior design and who are some of the talents shaping the aesthetic? I worked on a new book with Alice Cavanagh that answers the question— now available from Phaidon x Monacelli!

• How the Guillotine Got Axed ( for The New Yorker)
  Who hasn’t wondered this?!

• Are third spaces in France the antidote to political extremism?
  ( for The Guardian)

OVERHEARD IN

“Je suis toujours de mauvaise foi, c’est mon côté féminin”
I’m always unreasonable, it’s my feminine side.

--A butcher at a small town market“joking” to a client.

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I thought I’d follow that up with some recommendations that are more than fine, that I think are very much worth your time and attention. (More food recs in my series for The Infatuation).

L’Escale
A spot dans son jus, as we say, with prime real estate on the Ile Saint-Louis, drenched in natural light, where regulars pack in for a quick chat and an espresso and return for lunch and travelers hold court on the terrace (now open!) that faces the Seine. The coffee hasn’t gotten an upgrade (I must issue caution) but there’s a new owner who had the good sense to bring on the American chef Matt Robinson to oversee the cooking. Everyone has taken notice. There are affordable, simple and hearty dishes of the day at lunch and garlic-stuffed chicken with perfect fries (with a lil skin!) on Sunday. It is already becoming a place you may need to reserve, though not too far in advance, and mostly for Sunday chicken. Better yet, stop in, get to know them, and they’ll pencil you in.

1 rue des Deux Ponts, 75004

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A photo of a good-looking dish, generously plated, catches my eye on a friend’s Instagram story. It’s from a newly opened neighborhood restaurant getting industry traction. “How was it?!” I ask. “Fine 🤷🏻‍♀️”, I’m told. Technically solid, good ingredients, comfortable atmosphere, but unmemorable and underwhelming.

This one-word review seems to encapsulate much of the sentiment about dining out in a certain type of restaurant in Paris these days. I said it the other week after a fun but profoundly mid experience that even some discerning friends had showered with praise; I said it a few weeks ago at another new bar-bistrot I had to review for work; and I hear it from Parisians in my circle who dine out regularly and have palates that align closely with mine. Christine Muhlke, the writer, consultant, and former executive editor of Bon Appétit, used a similar word to describe many of her experiences on a recent Paris visit: nice.

Perhaps it’s true elsewhere (Americans, Brits: chime in!), but surely in the city whose post-COVID culinary energy I have written about at length and have been excited to witness, there shouldn’t be quite such a proliferation of average. It’s not the first time for Paris— remember the shift from passé to back-in-a-big-way thanks to the bistronomy boom, encompassed and inspired much of my first book? This isn’t quite that. Fortunately, I think (I hope) what we’re experiencing now is easier to overcome.

“We are in an era of fine,” I concluded with Doublet of Le Fooding fame and the whip-smart newsletter . But why is this happening? She and I get into it.

🥐

Lindsey Tramuta: What’s going on, Christine? Has something changed in the last six months to make fine the new F&B trend?

Christine Doublet: I was thinking about this this morning after our conversation. If someone is opening a business, because a restaurant is, after all, a business, then they must be confident in the product they’re putting out, be it adventurous fine dining or a neighborhood bistro. They must have built a business plan, taste-tested, conducted friends & family meals and said to themselves, “this is great”, “this is going to knock people’s socks off” or “this is worth putting out into the world”. And so on the other side as a customer I’m expecting to be wowed or at the very least satisfied by the experience. But I guess I’ve been wondering if, given how hard the restaurant business has been of late (including but not limited to an exponential increase in restaurant closures due notably to rising prices), maybe business owners are actually aiming for fine instead? If people are actually, purposefully opening safe restaurants?

LT: This is a really interesting point. It feels plausible and yet: is the point of getting into the food business to run something safe when the very real risk is that you don’t inspire return visits? Maybe these establishments aren’t thinking that far ahead. That, in itself, is an issue. Opening up and doing “their best”, even if mediocre, is a short-sighted strategy. And some of the places that are fine are run by chefs or industry people who probably don’t see their ventures as aiming for average. Given how little people earn in this industry on balance, isn’t it a self-fulfilling prophecy?

CD: So if they aren’t aiming for average, then have we become too difficult? Neither of us is the average diner. We go out to eat A LOT and to A LOT of amazing places, so if these places aren’t aiming for fine, if this is what they think is their best, and if they are generally functioning and getting decent reviews and full dining rooms, then are we the problem?

I actually think that despite eating out so much I’m actually pretty easy to please, I just want the food to be tasty, the service to be warm, and to feel something, anything, when I go out to eat (side bar: this makes me think of my favorite Liz Lemon quote). I will add that none of these fine places we are talking about actually serve bad food; everything is cooked well, properly portioned, well seasoned enough. It’s just I can’t think of a single defining characteristic that makes one place stand out compared to another.

LT: I did wonder if this was an us, not them, problem. But then again, plenty of friends in my circle who don’t necessarily dine out as much have also shrugged after certain experiences. Again, as you said: not bad at all, just not memorable. I wonder if it’s directly connected to a dining category. Fine dining can’t really afford to be complacent. I’ve had meals at Michelin-caliber tables that weren’t super memorable, for various reasons, but nonetheless well above fine! Is this a midrange affliction, you think?

CD: I don’t know if this answers the fine-dining question exactly, but I do think the price and the restaurant’s positioning play into the experience and your expectations. To me, a fine fine dining restaurant is not fine, it’s bad. If you describe your establishment as fine dining and have the price point (and dare I say Michelin stars) to back it up, then you better be delivering on the plate. You can’t coast on fine. Fine, in that context, is inadequate. So yes, I would generally say that here, fine refers to mid-range restaurants with a 25-35 € lunch menu and a 50-60 € à la carte dinner.

Continuing on the price conversation: the general population is being more careful with how they spend their money as prices have risen in pretty much all aspects of life, so I guess that’s what makes me the most uncomfortable about all these fine restaurants. I want to say to people, “SAVE YOUR MONEY! GO HERE INSTEAD!” What do you think? Like if we had endless amounts of money to spend on restaurants, then maybe a fine meal here and there wouldn’t be so offensive.

LT: Absolutely. My bill came to 100+€ at one of the fine bistro experiences I had recently— for one glass of wine, one non-alcoholic drink, and a smattering of very average shared plates. It stung, and I felt instantly dissatisfied. My guess is that the reason we’re seeing coffee shops proliferate (and sometimes directly across the street from one another) is that there’s lower overhead for the owners and lower spend required for consumers. Is a 5 or 6€ flat white cheap? No. But when someone is budgeting and considering whether they meet friends at a coffee shop versus a bar or bistro, the calculus is vite fait. It’s the same reason I see young people flocking to N.G.E.s ( ’s idea of the nearest generic establishment) for super cheap beers at happy hour. It’s what they can afford when they want to be outside.

One chef-consultant friend did offer a different perspective on some of these average places opening and coasting: the owners don’t think to ask for help. They may not be testing recipes thoroughly, they’re in a rush to open, and their circle of industry friends aren’t necessarily telling them the truth. Could that be at play here?

CT: Regarding the rush to open, definitely. I feel like once you invest, once you spend months on construction, at a certain point you need to open and start making money. Whether industry friends aren’t telling the truth, I feel like that goes back to the restaurant closures/rising prices/lack of staff mentioned earlier. It hasn’t been an easy few years for restaurants, so maybe people feel they need to be overly supportive and are not actually giving constructive criticism. Also, a lot of the places that are opening come from “the former sous-chef of so and so”, and “the wine girl from that other place,” so the people they are expecting to give them feedback are their former colleagues and peers. It must be tough to do that if you’re all trying to be supportive of one other in this difficult context.

But feedback is so so precious, Friends & Family (in the U.S. at least) exists for this very reason, but in France, F&F is mostly an excuse to invite press and influencers pre-opening in order to get the article or post you think you need to get clients through the door. On the other hand, I’ve also been to a few places recently that have opened and are specifically not contacting the press or doing any PR so they can have at least one or two months as a trial run to work out kinks. So it could be possible that a lot of these fine places that we’ve been to are actually just going through opening growing pains and are going to get better.

Do you think that’s possible? That a place can drastically improve post-opening? Foodwise, servicewise? Or are the actual concepts of these fine restaurants flawed to begin with?

LT: That’s certainly possible. This is very true in fine dining; why shouldn’t it be true in other categories? The issue is enticing people to return to give a place a second chance. That’s hard to bank on, especially in this economy and with so much choice! People make up their minds after one meal.

CD : I’d like to end on a positive note, though. One advantage of this sea of fine is how much more individual and unique restaurants stand out. Someplace like Pochana (12m², 12 seats, 1 chef, 1 somm, natural wines and homey Thaï food) seems so much more special in comparison to the one millionth basic French neo-bistro that I’ve been to. To me, Pochana is the perfect example of what a good restaurant should be: a distinct point of view; a clear message (as stated on their Instagram “Natural wine and Thai-ish dishes”, and that is exactly what you get); a short tasty menu (menus are often too long!!); an equally short but equally tasty wine list (due to the size of the restaurant they can only stock a certain amount of wine at a time but working within this limited framework works to their advantage, they’re curating instead of inundating); a good playlist; an affable server (Rémy, the somm and co-owner with his wife May, who’s in the kitchen); dimmed lighting (lighting is SO SO SO IMPORTANT in restaurants and is so often too bright or too white); and of course vibes for days (while a concept is easy to replicate, vibes are inexplicable and are the equivalent of a magic potion, it’s only when all elements are mixed together in the correct unmeasurable amounts that you achieve PEAK ambiance).

To me, all of this equals someplace that leaves a mark and leaves you wanting more. I don’t know if you’d be able to name a place in Paris (recently!) that spoke to you?

© @widowspeaking

LT: YES! I loved Pochana! I’m due for a return visit. This is exactly how I feel when I eat at Kubri, La Joie, Trâm 130, Ama Siam, Comptoir De Vie, and even Chez Georges (I realize, it is not new! But it is a best-in-class example of what you’re describing.) Each offers something different, culinarily speaking, but consistency is part of their success. Some nail the right balance of spice and layered flavors; others (like the bistro) stick to a classic rulebook and go hard on the service and environment, which too many upstarts can only approximate in pastiche. Maybe it’s the revival bistros that are the weak link at the moment? The umpteenth neo-bistro with sharing plates that leave you hungry? Either way, here’s hoping this will be more of a phase of fine, rather than a full era!

CD: In the time we’ve been going back and forth, I tried something new and promising: Dents de Loup, a butcher shop that serves food like an insane saucisse-purée and housemade charcuterie. So maybe things are looking up?

Croisons les doigts!

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Something in the unfamiliar seems to unlock a part of the mind that ordinary life keeps tightly closed. I learned that firsthand last June when I spent a week at a comfortable remove from my daily life at La Gonette, in Simiane-la-Rotonde. It could have been the way the light hit the terrace or the slower pace, or maybe even the absence of obligation, but it was the kind of restorative and stimulating retreat that creative life requires.

For my first retreat as a participant, I was in the company of fellow city dwellers, among them Michael Cunningham and , who, like me, found themselves moved and inspired by the grand house called La Gonette, lovingly restored and transformed into a creative community gathering space by the novelist Alice Nelson. The conditions were right for reflection of all kinds.

For one week, the only words that required my attention were on the page— first others’, then my own. Meals were generous and nourishing, and, most importantly, prepared by Harriet and Jeni, who gave new meaning to the idea of feeding people as a form of care. The opportunity to just be during that week brought about several emotional breakthroughs, among them a reset in my focus and a desire to observe my surroundings more closely. I learned from men and women who traveled everywhere from Vermont to Melbourne — some of them writers, all of them avid readers and brilliant thinkers—to pore over short works of fiction, the technique of writing, and the flavours of Provence in a home that, it must be said, carries some kind of magic. (Don’t just take it from me, walked away with a similar impression!)

It is not for nothing that this house and this experience exist in Provence. For generations, the painterly light, sensuously rich landscapes, and sun-drenched southern produce of Provence have fed the imaginations of writers, artists, and chefs from all over the world. Here, they could see and think differently, at a comfortable remove from their routine. With dry heat and sharp winds, time slows. The mineral scent of limestone warmed in the afternoon sun, and the dusty chalk of a country path, runs beneath each day. Above it, a choir of cicadas rises, growing into a reassuring, reliable Provençal sound.

Naturally, I was delighted when Alice and Harriet at La Gonette offered me the opportunity to lead an experience of my own with them later this year. Those of you following my work for some time know how much I value women’s stories and while we tend to focus on the women who have been influenced by Paris, there are nearly as many who have found their calling and passions in Provence. (You can read about some of those women in the retreat brochure, here.)

Our week together will be shaped by many of the same conditions that have made this region generative for so many before us. There will be readings from carefully chosen short works and writing exercises designed for every level of experience, from the novelist to the committed journaler. We will share stories, discuss how a place can serve as a powerful muse, and gather around the table with some of the people shaping this community, from winemakers and chefs to artists and makers I had the chance to spend time with last summer. Food will anchor our days, rest will be built in, and the evenings will take care of themselves.

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Applications for this week are now open! Read through the brochure, get an idea of who you’ll meet along the way, and project yourself to Provence in autumn! There are other FAQs addressed on the retreat website but a few others below:

FAQs
Who is this for?
Book lovers, writers (though not a requirement at all!), creatives, deep thinkers, food lovers. The goal of this week is to sharpen our focus, create community, and learn! There will be a smattering of writing prompts but they can just as easily inspire a journal entry as an essay or piece of fiction one wishes to publish. Women will be front and center here but men are, of course, welcome.

Do I have to think about meals and getting around?
No! That’s actually what proved to be a massive gift for my brain last year: every meal was generous and thoughtfully taken care of, even those outside of La Gonette. Once you get to the train station in Marseille, you get in a van and the rest unfolds. Bliss!

What if I’m a bit of an introvert?
That’s okay! There will be group sessions and activities but if at any point in the afternoon you prefer some alone time to take a dip in the pool, read on the terrace, or go for a stroll in the village, you can. There is plenty of free time woven in for this reason.

Will you review my writing?
I’d be happy to review and discuss your work! We can schedule 1:1 sessions throughout the week.

Thanks for reading! If you think a friend would enjoy The New Paris Dispatch or this retreat, share it! Gift subscriptions are available here | Order copies of my books The New Paris, The New Parisienne, and The Eater Guide to Paris.

How many Americans could, legally, live abroad if they wanted to through ancestry or naturalization? A conservative estimate suggests that some 25 millions Americans hold dual nationality and could get on a plane, finances allowing, and live an entirely different life. An undetermined number of Americans are eligible for foreign citizenship but have not pursued it. Mine came through marriage (and many many years committed to France! And giving the state a lot of my money!) but today’s newsletter honoree, Fabienne Toback, was born with the potential for Swiss citizenship. And yet, while the award-winning filmmaker and producer of Netflix’s High on the Hog1could have moved abroad much earlier, she only made the jump two years ago— and to Paris.

Where was the last place you lived in the U.S.?
The Arts District in downtown Los Angeles.

Did you intend to leave permanently or was the move temporary?
Not initially. I knew I always wanted to live in Europe, but I didn’t know how or when it was going to come into being. My dual citizenship was an important factor in deciding to move here. Initially, I did not have the ability to be naturalized by Switzerland, rights were awarded only by patrilineal succession, but that changed in 1985. After 9/11 and the Bush administration, along with the invasion in Afghanistan, I could see the United States heading toward rapid change, and one that might require me to broaden my and my son’s geographic choices. I applied for my citizenship, which was a lengthy process and voila, my children and I had new options.

It truly is a gift that I am super grateful for; I wasn’t going to let it languish by living my entire life in the U.S.

Was there a pivotal moment when you knew your life would be best pursued elsewhere?
There wasn’t a pivotal moment per se, but I knew it was going to happen at some point in my life. It had been a desire since I worked at Columbia Pictures (while I worked there, we had a Paris office).

What sort of financial consideration did the move require, even if as a student initially? Does one need a plump savings account to make this work?
As a producer and creative consultant, my income is always a bit in flux. I had accumulated enough savings and, as a newly single person, was simultaneously being priced out of Los Angeles. Moving abroad is always a big leap, but I didn’t overthink it. My dual citizenship with Switzerland definitely made it a bit easier.

At what age did you leave? Looking back, was that too soon or too late?
Je ne regrette rien! I read somewhere recently that there are two things you can’t change or come back from: having kids and dying. Outside of being dead — in which case it would definitely be too late — I have a friend whose mother just moved to Portugal—she’s 80! Would you say that’s too late? Too late for what, at the end of the day?

When did you know you'd made the right [or wrong] call?
Moving is challenging; I also moved all my belongings. I don’t dwell on whether it was the right or wrong call. It’s done, and I embrace each day and look for the gifts that the move has given me.

What does Paris offer you that your native home couldn’t and, perhaps, still can’t?
The list is long. The city is so steeped in history, it’s palpable, but I’m sure you hear that all the time. I think in our globalized world there isn’t anything here or there that I couldn’t acquire. Gone are the days of getting that really special food item, or textile or trinket. What I get here is the intangible. I do feel a sense of belonging, even though Switzerland is far more familiar to me, I appreciate the seamless integration into the European culture; it wasn’t something I had to learn or become familiar with. That’s a nice thing. I am still working up my French, which has been a bit rusty for the past two decades. Sadly, I realize that I'm not quite as fluent as I thought, or could be if my partner spoke to me in French—that last 20% is a doozy, ça me casse!

Can you share any anecdotes about your highest and lowest moments in Paris?
Truly, what’s not to love (ah, the overcrowded metro on a rainy afternoon!)? I digress. Paris is truly a wonderful city. I’ve been here for just over two years and I’m still scratching the surface of what it has to offer. I quickly bought a bike when I moved here and, for me, that has been such a delight. You really grasp the size of Paris, it’s a small town compared to Los Angeles. To me, that’s part of its charm.

As for the lowest, and coming from California, you can guess, no big surprise, it’s the weather. Adjusting to the long gray winter. But to be honest, the weather would have been a challenge no matter where I moved outside of Los Angeles. Bitter cold was out of the question. Coming from LA, I realize that I’d been used to four to five months of summer, May to October, and then 80°+F / 27°C on random days sprinkled throughout the “winter.” It’s funny that I never thought the summers were short when I was a kid in New York. The winters in Paris are nothing like New York. Those winters were agonizing, and at the same time, it was all I knew. I guess it’s the same here in Paris; it is what it is at the end of the day.

Are there aspects of American life that you long for?
I visit enough to get my fix, but there are definitely things I miss, such as my community of friends. I have met some incredible and lovely people, but the deep friendships, those I have back in the U.S. And honestly, here, I have been a bit wanting. Luckily, Paris is a place my people want to visit.

What book or movie do you most associate with the American experience abroad?
I’ve always carried within me a part of the European experience throughout my life, through my summers with my grandmother in Switzerland and my mother in the U.S. But maybe Julia Child’s My Life in France, which is such a fun book. I’ve read that James Baldwin’s Notes of a Native Son is a must; I will dive into that next.

If you had to narrow it down to one, what is the greatest lesson living abroad has taught you about yourself and the world?
Adapt. Be mindful of the cultural cues and how they present themselves. Be true to yourself, but also mindful not to expect the same in a foreign city, whether it be Paris or Prague.

Have you ever considered going back? (Why or why not)
I’ve only been here for a little over two years, so no, I haven’t considered going back. Sure, it can be challenging, especially when you see how the world is unfolding, but I feel that my journey is just getting started.

For those contemplating leaving the U.S., what do you suggest they consider most about the decision?
Do a dry run. Rent a place. Sure, everyone wants to move to Paris when they’re here on vacation— it’s warm, it’s sunny, or ahhh, the leaves are starting to change, it’s brisk and sunny. Yum! A city on highlight reel. One doesn’t plan a vacation thinking, “Hmm, when is the city at its most crappy, cold, and rainy?” I was most concerned about the winter, so I rented a place here from January to the end of April. I wanted to see Paris at her worst and watch her unfurl into her best. Et voilà!

Also, brush up on your language skills and understand that we, especially Americans, have a tendency of bringing our cultural norms and expectations. If imposed, that can be rude and disrespectful.

ADDITIONAL READING

The United States experienced negative net migration in 2025, with more people leaving than arriving for the first time in 90 years (and it’s not only for political reasons). (WSJ/The Independent)

American violence is pushing families to think about leaving (NYT)

+ My essay in Issue 13 of The Bitter Southerner on this topic— releasing this month! Subscribe to get your copy.

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Four months after the jewel heist of the century, Louvre president Laurence des Cars resigned this week. The stolen jewels and security failings weren’t the only crises she was mired in during her five-year tenture: There have been accusations of budget mismanagement, and internal tensions with staff and trade unions…

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So where do you go when the craving strikes on any day of the year? I have my favorites but I wanted to hear from author Aleksandra Crapanzano whose illustrated recipe book Chocolat: Parisian Desserts and Other Delights, a follow-up to Gâteau, is an ode to the seductive and always delicious world of chocolate. Here, she shares five of her favorite stops (a non-exhaustive list!) and, most importantly, why she thinks they’re worth your euros.

For the aficionado

Jade Genin
33 Av. de l’Opéra, 75002

While Cédric Grolet may be a media and Instagram darling, it is Jade Genin’s shop just a few steps away from Grolet’s Cédric et la Chocolaterie that will wow adults unimpressed by Grolet’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory-esque extravaganza. Jade is the daughter of Jacques Genin, one of Paris’s most brilliant chocolate makers. (This is to say nothing of his exquisite caramels!) When he told me to go try his daughter’s creations, I thought it was out of paternal pride, but, on his urging, I went, and Jade is indeed a huge talent. Try one of everything. Jade may be young but she is already a master.

Lindsey’s note: the pyramids are her signature item but don’t leave without trying the rochers!

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In my last update, I wrote about going to see Sofiane Pamart perform. What I didn’t mention is that it was at the Opéra Garnier, one night only. And it was incredible. When I talked about using music, among other techniques, to calm the nervous system, I couldn’t have imagined a better-timed opportunity to put it into action. His music is currently on repeat in our apartment.

The Opéra Garnier and Bastille are marquee spots to see dance and opera (Sofiane’s performance was a rarity!) and are among the most important venues for visitors looking to connect with the arts in Paris. But there are thousands, in fact, of spaces to do so all over the city. You know the greatest hits by now but there are other, smaller or less frequented spots that you learn about when you live here or you keep returning. Here are a few examples to put on your radar.

Out of the Blue Paris
This is an awesome idea that surely exists in other cities but I believe it’s the first of its kind on this scale in Paris. The owner, Chloé Bourgès, an independent filmmaker and director, opened the micro-cinema-bar to show short films and movies she loves. Natural wine upstairs, private movie theatre down below. The selection of short films rotates monthly (and has included works by David Lynch and Werner Herzog) and on the last Sunday of each month, she screens a feature film. You pay for your drink and snacks but not for access to the screenings. Best part: she sources her cheese selection from Source fromagerie and wine cellar.

9 rue Saint-Maur 75011, Paris
Open Thursday-Sunday

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I didn’t intend to wait until mid January to write again but I’ve felt paralysed. How could I possibly write and publish anything on my personal platforms that isn’t somehow in response to what so many of us knew would happen but are nonetheless stunned it has come to fruition as swiftly and violently as it has…

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I’ve also asked a few smart pals for their thoughts, which you’ll find below. Ready for 2026?

👍 More road etiquette. If I stopped cycling on the regular it’s because it doesn’t feel so safe out there! I don’t need anything to spike my stress levels so if navigating an intersection becomes a scene from The Hunger Games, I think I’ll stick to public transport and my own two feet. See also: drivers who think they’re in bumper cars and won’t do much damage if they hit a cyclist. More collective responsibility, please!

🚫 Complaining about the bike lanes and pedestrian zones, particularly the ones along the riverbanks. My forever pet peeve. A group of 40-to-60-year-old ladies I take a mat pilates class with (in the 11th arrondissement, mind you, which they access by public transport) were complaining before class recently about the city’s car traffic. “They shouldn’t have made the quais pedestrian, it’s half empty during the week!” they opined. “It should stay open during the week to cars and be reserved for cyclists and pedestrians on the weekend. That Hidalgo did a number on this city, good thing she’s leaving soon.” Because this brief and irritating back-and-forth happened upon my return from Japan, I didn’t start a debate. I was drawing on my newfound reservoir of patience. But if you’re married to your car or the idea of giving priority to cars in these times, you might want to consider moving out of Paris.

👍 More well-crafted, meaningful goods with transparent and ethical supply chains and production volume. By extension, more commercial spaces reserved for shop-owners committed to producing or selling such wares. It is a choice to allow brands manufacturing cheap, plastic goods to take up space in a city once reserved for artisans.

🚫 Slapping Maison onto a brand or company name to confer an air of prestige or luxury. When everything is Maison whatchamacallit, the word means nothing.

👍 More independent restaurants and shops built on quality and strong ideas. This also means more bank loans and customer support for such endeavors.

🚫 “Concepts”. I received a press release the other day for a make-your-own crumble shop in the 9th arrondissement. Le concept (the owner’s words, not mine): You choose your fruit, the crumbly bits go next, and then you can add any number of toppings and sauces. I wager this will fizzle within a year, like the avo-toast cafés. Very few single-product shops have staying power (Popelini is the rare exception). I’d also love to see more intelligent use of the word concept. It should not, for example, be used to refer to shops or restaurants whose ambitions are not to become full-fledged brands or chains. As a very talented chef told me when I dined at his first solo restaurant before the holidays, “we are a restaurant. There is no concept. I cook. But French journalists want to know what our concept is! Help!”

Related: I’d love to see the proliferation of extremely mediocre coffee shops, with flavored drinks and interiors pulled from Pinterest, reigned in. The whole point of the specialty coffee movement was to emphasize fair-trade sourcing and quality from farm to cup. The majority of new spots conveniently disregard this, surfing instead on a successful format rather than upholding a commitment to quality. And my personal gripe: UHT (shelf-stable) milk. I understand the financial benefit of using it (and if the bulk of your business is black coffee /pour-overs, fine) but it tastes terrible and has an awful texture which, in turn, takes away from the flavor and complexity of the coffee . (Want my recommendations, updated regularly? Get my digital guide!)

👍 More in-person events, opportunities to gather, engage, discuss and disentangle ourselves from our screens. In my ideal world, this involves books. And it just so happens…

I’ve got one such opportunity in the works outside of Paris!
Women in (and on) Provence with me at La Gonette
Retreat dates: September 28 to October 04, 2026
One of the highlights of my year was the inspiring, delicious, and intellectually stimulating week at La Gonette with literary sessions led by Michael Cunningham (and getting to spend time with and learn from among other brilliant minds!). I am over the moon to work with the novelist Alice Nelson, who took over this incredible spot on the edge of the Luberon, to put together a literary and culinary week in early autumn.

The week will be centered around the theme of Women in (and on) Provence —talking about Provence as a muse, exploring why it has endured this way for generations of women and what that looks like for women today. A week of reading, storytelling, food and craft. We’ll be discussing writers like Diana Henry, M.K. Fisher, Julia Child, and meeting local artists, producers and restaurateurs. More information to follow, applications opening: February 2026

🚫 Attending events, meetings or parties when you’re sick enough to be at home in bed. Sniffle? Fine. Coughing incessantly, blowing nose, low-grade fever? Stay home. Time to remove all need for greetings like, “j’ai la crève, je ne te fais pas la bise1.”

Christine Doublet, co-director of Le Fooding, writer of

⁠👍 More places where “everybody knows your name”. I’m dreaming of the Parisian equivalent to the restaurant below me in New York, where I am right now. The food is not the best in the city, but it’s reliable and tasty enough, there are large cozy booths and seats at the bar and they make a mean martini. More importantly, it’s a neighborhood café, no one is trekking across the city to get there. You run into the same people you see at your local park, your local greengrocer, your local subway stop. Less destination dining, more comfort dining!

🚫 Running to your assigned seat. It makes me completely insane that at train stations in Paris people will full on sprint to their seat. I can only assume it’s to get the best spot for their suitcase. Traveling with French people2 in general is very frustrating, as they have very little regard for anyone else’s situation but their own (see: people watching videos without headphones/Facetiming without headphones/taking the window seat and falling asleep and then being offended if you ask them to move/standing up and getting ready to get off the train twenty minutes before arrival, disrupting the natural flow of front to back exiting… I could go on).

Shelby Chambers,

👍 What my heart really wants more of for Paris in 2026 is consideration for others. Make space for people getting on the metro, give your spot up to a mom with her arms full, clean up after your pet, brake for piétons. But if that’s too much to ask, I’d love more big interesting salads with lots of grain and veggie and protein options, all for a reasonable price.

🚫 Fewer establishments that market with content bait. Mirrors outside restaurants, the faux flower façades, trendy fonts without any substance inside. Maybe also fewer patrons who are there for content, too.

25% off annual subscriptions!

Phineas Rueckert, journalist,

👍 This might be an unpopular opinion because of [construction, noise, inconvenience, insert other complaint here], but Paris still needs more bike lanes. More bike lanes! Wider bike lanes! Protected bike lanes! It might seem like we’ve come a long way, and we have, but large, mostly western swaths of the Paris capital (cough cough neighborhoods where Rachida Dati has been mayor) remain very car-forward.

🚫 Fewer people sleeping rough. Every French president since Sarkozy has said he’d end homelessness yet this number has only increased. Since the beginning of Macron’s second mandate, the number of people experiencing homelessness has increased by 25%3. Will a left-wing coalition led by Emmanuel Grégoire requisition unused homes to address this problem head on? Keep your eyes out as activist groups like Le Revers (a new collective with a unique and fresh voice) try to bring this issue to the center of the upcoming municipal elections.

Jane Bertch,

👍 More centers where entrepreneurs can come together—places where we can work side by side, connect, share ideas, and truly expand one another. In that same vein, I’d love to see a cozy version of a ‘day bar’ (similar to a co-working coffee spot, but a place that serves wine and opens early. If Cambridge Public House opened a few hours earlier, it would be perfect). Lunch has become the new dinner for me, so a place to slip into mid-afternoon, enjoy a glass of wine, and have a deep, meaningful conversation with someone in my community would be a lovely thing.

🚫 I’ll echo Lindsey’s point here: I’d like fewer cookie-cutter coffee shops, all doing something very similar. It feels like we’ve reached a point of oversaturation.

Emily Monaco, Emily in France and The Fishwives of Paris

👍 More transformative green spaces. I love my neighborhood in the 10th, between the Canal and the Gare de l'Est, even more since a small side road was transformed into a pretty, tree-lined square, and I was thrilled with how the newly green parvis in front of Hôtel de Ville turned out. Paris has been known for its parks since Haussmann’s renovation, but adding even more quiet havens is making the city even more pleasant to live in.

🚫 Massive tourism companies buying up reservations at must-visit museums and monuments like the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower, making it nearly impossible for individuals and families to visit them without planning months in advance.

🚫 Storefronts permanently dedicated to pop-ups to the detriment of small businesses catering to locals. (Luckily, the city of Paris has already taken steps to grant my wish!)

Elaine Huntzinger, facialist, acupuncturist, writer of Saving Face!

👍 More foreigners (living in Paris) learning French rather than assuming everyone speaks English.

👍 More money spent on the upkeep of parks and roads.

👍 More availability of affordable organic/locally-sourced products

🚫 Fewer matcha/viral cafés, more cafés with better customer service rather than focusing on being viral!

🚫 Less violence— micro-conflicts among strangers on the streets and yelling, specifically. More smiles and eye contact!

Ajiri Aki, author of Joie and writer of

👍 More keeping Paris, Paris: marrying the past and present with taste, not gimmicks

👍 More people moving here to actually learn French and fall in love with French culture

🚫 In turn, fewer people moving here purely to monetize “Paris” as social media content

👍 More saying, “I love this!” when you mean it

🚫 Less of the eternal pas mal + faux nonchalance

👍 More of the art of the long Sunday lunch at home, like Paris used to do so well with les recettes de grand-mère, good wine, mixed generations, and zero rush

🚫 Less paying for hype restaurants where the interiors and PR outshine the food

AMEN.

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For the last edition of this series for 2025 (more than a year after I started it!), I’m thrilled to speak with Farah Alimi. The Damascus-born, Paris-based artist ultimately left the United States for a reason that hasn’t yet been discussed here: to inch closer to her homeland. I first met Farah at Sobremesa, a wonderful wine bar in the 18th arrondissement that has regularly hosted her friend Shan Rachel Jiang as a chef in residence. Then, I kept running into her at Paramaz, a leather goods workshop-coffee shop-boutique we both love. Today, she joins me here to offer her story of leaving the U.S.

Where was the last place you lived in the U.S.?
Greenpoint, New York

Did you intend to leave permanently or was the move temporary?
I always knew, deep down, that New York was never meant to be my final destination. As painful as it was to leave, I understood when the moment arrived that it was time. The decision didn’t come all at once. I needed to test the waters first, to breathe somewhere new. Marseille was that threshold. I had visited the south once before, and my last stop was Marseille. The moment I stepped into its streets, tears slid down my cheeks, it was an indescribable feeling, as though I were visiting Damascus. I felt at home. The chaos, the humbleness of the city, it all resonated with me. I fell in love right then and there and promised myself I would return and stay for a while.

At the time, in 2016, Damascus, like the rest of Syria, was in a heartbreakingly fragile state, so the closest and most familiar city for me was Marseille. I was grateful to have found such a place. It felt like a gift, a moment that taught me patience and prepared me for the time I would eventually return to my birth city. Even now, I can still feel the quiet weight of that experience and how profoundly it shaped me. I knew I had to be in the south before making my way to Paris, to inch closer to home. That, more than anything else, was the reason.

Was there a pivotal moment when you knew your life would be best pursued elsewhere?
Yes, absolutely. I needed to live, to truly enjoy my time, instead of constantly working and hustling while life rushed past me. I was craving a life of quality. I didn’t fully know what I was stepping into then, but I chose to go for it anyway.

What sort of financial consideration did the move require, even if as a student initially? Does one need a plump savings account to make this work?
I was privileged to have had steady work that allowed me to save a solid amount of money before making my big move. Before fully committing to the decision, I took two important steps. I spent three months in Marseille during the holidays, from Thanksgiving through mid-January, to see if I was strong enough to handle being completely on my own, without family. I also took time to understand the financial reality of Europe, which was, and still is very different from New York. In many ways, life here is far more affordable.

Prior to COVID, I began working in wardrobe for film and television productions in Marseille, primarily on American projects. I continued working in wardrobe there until late 2021, after leaving fashion and New York behind, when I was still figuring out my direction. What eventually brought me to Paris was a job—ironically, a show that somehow connected back to fashion: The New Look, about Christian Dior, Coco Chanel, and Dior’s sister Catherine, a resistance fighter. I owe so much to Allyx Seaman, Thomas McCarthy, Rae Baron, and Karen Miller Serreau, whose guidance and support helped make a career like this possible for me.

At what age did you leave? Looking back, was that too soon or too late?
I left at 27, nearly nine years ago. It was the right time to make the move, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I’m truly thankful.

When did you know you'd made the right [or wrong] call?
Despite missing my family and friends, and despite how difficult the first two years were, I quickly realized it was the right call. I was learning a new language, discovering a new culture, and living in an almost 40m² apartment with rent so low it would be impossible in the States, all just a short walk from the Mediterranean. Even then, I was a happy camper, always grateful. And of course, moving to Paris after four years was the cherry on top. I moved for work, and I couldn’t have been happier to start a new chapter in a city I had always imagined would be a part of my life. Funny how life works.

What does Paris offer you that your native home couldn’t and, perhaps, still can’t?
I was just thinking about this a few weeks ago. Paris is charming in many ways, but one charm I especially appreciate is how, no matter how fast-paced the city can feel, it always makes time to pause and relax. It nudges you to slow down and savor life. At first, I found it a bit strange, like the unhurried pace at restaurants, but then I realized it was for my own good. Another thing I love is the accessibility of fresh produce and healthcare.

Can you share any anecdotes about your highest and lowest moments in Paris?
It’s hard to pick just one highest or lowest moment, so here’s a glimpse of a few that stand out. One of my highest moments was having my art show, Before and After Damascus, this past April with Atelier 505. It came shortly after a trip to Damascus, my first in twenty years, which may very well be another high point in itself.

Another incredible high point was collaborating with PARAMAZ, painting directly on their leather. It was such a meaningful moment to work with a brand that shares the same values of traditional craftsmanship, offering their leather for me to paint on, and eventually to have those pieces incorporated into their gorgeous bags. That opportunity was both humbling and inspiring, and it remains one of my proudest achievements.

I’ve also had two particularly low moments. The first was when there was an issue with my carte de séjour during the renewal process. I couldn’t leave the country for months, and after a long period of uncertainty and back-and-forth, I finally received it for ten years, which, of course, became another high point. The second low moment came in Paris, when I struggled to find an apartment. It was an incredibly challenging time, but with the help of friends, I eventually found a solution that worked.

Are there aspects of American life that you long for?

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