Another day, another scribble (insert winky emoji).  No wait, don’t, this isn’t Social Media and I can express myself just fine with my native English language.

NO EMOJIS!

So a good kind lady (aka Mammy) commented on yesterday’s post that I had confounded her (it happens regularly); to paraphrase her, one minute I was raving about Paris and the next thing I’d dropped it like a hot potato and moved on to gushing about Bell’Italia in all its pizza-eating, coffee-drinking glory.

Have I really abandoned my Parisienne mademoiselle and left her weeping into a bottle of Dom Perignon Champagne in some dark and seedy little brasserie, a ladder in her designer tights, smudged mascara, her impeccable hair beginning to unravel at much the same rate as her mental capacities?

Well sure, but she’s Paris dammit (the most glamorous of glam by day and falling out of rowdy bars by night completely smashed… that’s a typical weekend night for her; my detour to Italy had nothing to do with it).

Besides which, she gets it. Im mean, even Paris goes there from time to time, popping over to Milan for fashion shows, Florence to have a laugh at David’s willy (ha!) and then drinking cocktails til she pukes with her celebrity chums on the island of Capri.

She totally gets it.

She understands that there are times when Italy is the only place to be.

The rest of the time?

Well, however sexy Roma may be, no matter the exclusive fashion in Milano or how wild and fabulous those Napoli folks are…. nowhere will ever quite have the chic, elegant charm of the one city in the world that stirs up hearts at the mere mention of it.

Paris, ma belle.

Enough ramblings, I’m way over the daily quota, gosh and darn it (Paris, I love you)

Ciao darlings!

Lizzie xxx