Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Paris, je t'aime. New York, j’adore.

A post from Ms. Diane Pepper –

My love affair with Paris dates back to childhood. May it be the food, the lights, the people; there’s something in the Parisian air that woos me unlike any other city in the world. As a native New Yorker, however, the great debate of the cities must rage on. Both hold clout as cultural epicenters. Both have their charms – a fine balance of luxury and grunge. But Paris makes me buckle in the knees in a way New York cannot match. Paris sweeps me off my feet.
To me Paris is like a lover who visits but once a year. A lover for whom you primp and pamper so as to leave the best of yourself lingering in his memory. New York on the other hand, has seen me at my worst - with morning breath and all the telltale signs of the rough night before.
So while Paris holds the refined sweetness a fine wine saved only for special occasions, New York is my closest confidant. A friend who sees all and keeps your worst a secret. New York knows me the most intimately and has protected me over the years. For that I am indented to the city of New York. Should I step in shit in the street, or have crack smoke blown on me in the subway, New York always sees me home safely – and in that alone I am charmed. When it comes to New York, like it or not, I seem to be a lifer.
A lovely comparison of the Parisian vs. the New York charms can be seen here.

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