Since I moved to Paris I've been to my fair share of Parisian house parties, but last Saturday I attended a fête that pretty much confirmed what I knew all along: Parisians always keep it classy. When north americans throw a house party you'll be fortunate if someone puts out a bowl of stale pretzels for you to snack on in between keg stands. A Parisian house party comes with strawberries, champagne, and a strict formal dress code. The party was being thrown by one of my fabulous friends at Sci Po. Her uncle (who happens to be an extremely famous journalist and author) volunteered his opulent apartment for the soiree. Decorated in the neo-baroque tradition it was the perfect venue for the "new romanticism" theme. Girls in corsets, men in ascot and furs, I felt like I was in a Jane Austin novel.
Top hats are due for a comeback.
You heard it here first.
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