A friend once told me that Parisians never directly look at you. When I asked what he meant he said that they will maybe look at you while you aren't looking and turn away their gaze just in time to avoid any bit of eye contact, or they'll stare at your reflection in the metro windows. Lately I've been blatantly staring at a lot of Parisians. I've been glancing at their clothes, at their hair, at their faces of stone with my own stone cold face. There's an art to looking like you don't give a *merde*. It's an art I can appreciate.
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Showing posts from November, 2016