Just a simple outfit, a sunny Paris day & a quick hour in the Tuileries to soak it all up. All that’s missing is a Sunday instead of a Friday, a chilled bottle of rose and a group of friends I miss who left. People leave Paris. They come, they live and love but then they leave. I was the last of my friends to finally drift away, as well as the only one who comes back so frequently. So the city is different now, lovely but all the same, changed. Less sociable, more work-centric and far more time at cafes alone with a book in my hand rather than a friend by my side. I’ve written a lot about Paris, the city was and always will be a big part of the narrative that sits alongside the photos I share here. You know, I adore Paris – and the memories I made (and continue to make) here are ones I keep close, they are with me in my pockets wherever I go. And the best part of my first years in Paris? The sheer youth in me – fresh from University, all alone in a big apartment I was thrilled to call my own but most importantly, naive and quite carefree. Work came second, Paris came first. I’d go out on a Monday night, I’d eat cheese and drink wine at midday without worry and I made so many friends; they’d all collect at my apartment on the weekends for big parties, the kind that infuriated all my neighbours. We’d scatter off into the night to various dive bars that were coined ‘chic’ and then do it all again, over and over. It was one of the only times I truly gave everything for an experience, the Paris one – but not the cliched sort you see on instagram. I never went to Laduree, sure there were picnics at the Eiffel and live music at midnight along the Seine… but there also were French boys that broke my heart, emptied bank accounts and the rowdiest sort of trouble that no French girl would ever find herself in. Looking back, it was magnificent – giving everything to simply live in a city you love, I’m glad I did it. And everytime I return, which is so often, usually for work – I’ll run around the city and see all these things I experienced, saw and did here – certain buildings, benches, one little tree or a window of an apartment I used to call home. All my little memories stick out into the sky so vividly, they are as sharp as the Eiffel to me. So vivid, I can’t tell if I made my mark on Paris or rather Paris just left it’s mark on me. Certainly the latter, but I’m happy, I’ll take it , I’ll celebrate it, this mark and all the memories Paris gave me.