Lesson number two learnt: wearing a flimsy silk dress whilst holding a handbag has shocking consequences. Let me explain. I was walking along Av. Wagram after visiting a friend in their flat near the Champs Elysées. I was talking to my friend, minding my own business, when a woman came up to me and said “you may want to put your handbag on your other arm….because your dress is riding up and I can see everything”. What exactly she meant by everything, I don’t quite know. But I can only presume that I was leaving little to the imagination. I blushed, laughed awkwardly, and replied with a curt “thanks” before expressing my horror. I don’t think I’d go up to a stranger on the street and tell them their nipple was on show, or that they had loo roll stuck between their legs. I think I’d just laugh, and point. #sarcasm (slightly). I was however reassured that I could finally cover up my derriere, and relieved that she hadn’t finished her sentence with “…because someone is trying to steal your purse”. Instead, I’d flirted with a bit of immodest bum flashing aka PDA (Public display of ASS). All I’m sayin’ is: Thank God I was wearing underwear. Not that I ever don’t for that matter…
I also learnt last night that talking in an American accent works wonders for me. I’ve been known to switch in and out of accents (poorly), but being half-American, I’ve somehow acquired an alter-ego, and she knows how to work the American accent to a fine line. There I was, sat between an Asian and a Russian, who were stunned to discover my secret aptitude. Apparently switching from Queen English to Sassy American is a transferable skill worth using. It earned me at least 3 vodka shots, which of course I watered down with a G&T because I cannot stand Vodka, and I’m badass. Literally. Apparently the English are too refined and reserved when it comes to talking. Who would have thought. Guess I gotta get my twang going.
Watch this space.