A dream is a wish your heart makes.

Blouse: gift, French Connection. Skirt: £33, Luella, via ebay. Belt: 20p, charity shop. Shoes: 50p, Russell and Bromley, via ebay.

It wouldn't be a twenty-first without acting like a child, would it? Sabby bounded onto the RER A with me, Sophie, Tom, and Brad in tow, and, as we wound our way East, the train slowly filled with little ones, each of us heading to Disneyland Paris. A weird mixture of food and stomach-churning rides (my ten and twenty-first year old self's dream combination), the day was spent wandering between the two parks, bringing back memories from when I went on a surprise trip a whole twelve years ago. Now I'm tall enough to go on Space Mountain and Tower of Terror (twice), and it certainly hasn't lost its magic.

We ended the day sitting by the side of the castle, watching Disney Dreams. It was slightly different to the bonfire night celebrations of November (namely that I wasn't in about three coats), but we were all still clutching our hot chocolates as we watched the spectacle unfold. By the time we got back to our room, we decided it probably wasn't a good idea to go out, particularly as we'd missed the last metro, so instead made ourselves a pasta box or five, and settled down before heading home via St Pancras the next day.

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You can't just give it away like it means nothing.

Blouse: gift, Hobbs. Skirt: £1.50, Jigsaw via charity shop. Denim jacket: £63, Hobbs. Belt: 20p, charity shop. Bag: £3, charity shop. Shoes: 50p, Russell and Bromley via charity shop. 

Gem recommended I head to Le Marais if I had time, and with my favourite falafel vendor residing there (sorry 3am Camden van, you serve your purpose, but it's just not the same) it was hardly a push to get the metro to Hôtel de Ville and sample that chickpea goodness at L'as du Fallafel again (check out my very happy face in the last photo). Whilst in the area, we also headed to Kilo Shop, one of Paris' vintage shops that sells its wares based on how much it weighs. Unfortunately I left empty handed, but Sabby picked up another belt for her collection. When trying to find a London comparison to the area, the closest I can think of is soho, with bars residing next to cafés, then boutiques such as The Kooples and Sandro happily nestled alongside; it's the kind of place where you're bound to find something worthwhile if you just keep meandering up and down its connected streets, but our feet were getting a little tired, so we headed back to cité université for a bite to eat before heading to Le Poulailler.

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When the music's over.

Midi dress: £13, Primark. Belt: 20p, charity shop. Necklace: Sabby's. Shoes: 50p, Russell and Bromley via ebay. Bag: £3, charity shop.

Bon soir!

My whirlwind trip to Paris feels like a lifetime ago, even though I only came back on Tuesday. For Sabby's twenty-first, we headed to the Continent where she's been studying for the past few months as part of her course. I visited last December, but this time a whole cohort of us ended up jumping on the Eurostar to wish this girl a happy birthday. This time it was certainly a lot hotter (no need for fur hats), so I whipped out my only midi for a wander to the twentieth arrondissement. 

Before the rest of our sorry lot turned up, Sabby and I visited Père Lachaise. Admittedly not the jolliest location for a day trip, but I've always wanted to pay my dues to a certain Mr Wilde (thanks for the 2:1!), as well as Jim Morrison, Edith Piaf, Balzac, et al. Thankfully the sunshine took the edge off the dreary occasion, and we could wander the wiggly pathways without too much trouble, before heading to a café for mojitos, just in time to avoid the sudden downpour. We did, however, have to brave it to pick up Biggs from Gare du Nord, so I can only apologise for the wild hair in my outfit photos. Unlike my local club, there aren't pay-per-minute straighteners on parisian street corners.

For dinner we headed to Blend on Olivia's recommendation and, in short, it was good. Very good. We got there just before it opened at 7, and were worried as we were the only diners. Give it ten minutes, and we were glad to have got there, as a queue had formed, and we were able to stalk (or roll) past the rumbling bellies, full with burger and chips. 

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Ball so hard.

1. City of Romance.

2. Hôtel de Ville.

3. My hostess.

4. Musée d'Orsay.

5. Snap!

6. Crocodile.

7. Les Puces de Saint-Ouen.

8. How could you not?

9. Oh right, yeah, because there are so many stairs.

10. Cité Université - our home for a week.

11. Windswept atop the Arc de Triomphe.

12. Galeries Lafayette's Christmas tree (and the perfect Sessun coat, but that's another matter).

13.Parisian sunset.

Here are a few visual aids to remembering seven days in Paris. The trip consisted of seemingly never-ending supplies of stairs, dancing to eighties anthems, lots of pastries, eating camembert for the first time, plenty of parisian sunrises, trips to Shakespeare and Company... It did rain an awful lot, though, I'll try to avoid that next time.

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Montmartre.

Sailor coat: £63, Topshop (old). Breton t-shirt: £30, Aubin and Wills. Jeans: £13.50, Topshop (now deceased). Boots: Stylistpick. Tartan scarf: £8, ebay. Hat: £10, vintage. "R" necklace: gift, Urban Outfitters. Cross-body bag: French Connection.

Blurry photos courtesy of Brad's media GCSE

The past week has been a very dull blur of word documents and consuming magnitudes of tea, but my dissertation has finally been submitted - hoorah! I'm sure third year university students will appreciate the stress, and the sudden excess of relief when you hand over your hand-bound copies. No outfit posts from that time, unless you want to see my incredibly fashionable primark jammies?

These photos feel like relics from a past age, but they were barely taken a month ago. One of the more cultural exploits from my trip to Paris was a wander up the hill to the Sacré-Cœur. We viewed the parisian vista at twilight, slowly watching all the lights below flicker on. It would almost have been romantic had we not all been singing a bizarre One Direction medley with the few snatches of songs we actually knew. After all, when in Paris... A little photo diary is in the works, so prepare yourself for plenty of cringe-y tourist photos!

xxx

ps, don't forget about my giveaway!

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