To ward off any impending jet lag upon my arrival in Paris, I ignored my desire to take an afternoon nap and chose instead a late afternoon stroll in my neighborhood in Ivry-sur-Seine. Even though I am no stranger to Paris, I was immediately struck by the dissimilarities between my French surroundings and the Washington DC suburb which has been my home for the past six years. It is often worthwhile recording one’s initial impressions before they surrender to the monotony of familiarity and routine.

Bonjour Paris goes behind the scenes at the 25th Biennale des Antiquaires in Paris with "Diamond Diva" Isabelle Kellogg. In this insiders' report on the poshest fair in France, Bonjour Paris reveals why Kellogg is a girl’s best friend as she divulges details explaining why investing in art and jewelry go hand-in-hand, sharing hints and tips on the antiques of the future.

You’re finally in Paris. Or maybe you’ve lived here for years. Either way, open your eyes. Having lived here for roughly thirty years, I recently realized just how much about Paris I no longer see—and that's a sin. But there's good news: It's safe to look up again.

When this writer was young, travelling through Paris in the family car on the way to Spain, it came as a shock to discover the Fermeture Annuelle. What was the matter? Didn’t they want our money? We had after all gone to all this trouble to take the car ferry into this strange country. The least they could do would be to keep the shops open in the high season, wasn’t it? The short answer was “non”.

Everyone loves the idea of the South of France in summer. But the reality? The crowds, the traffic, the high prices, the attitude? Not so much. But there's an alternative worth exploring. It's planned to reduce your stress level—and what's not to like about that?

You know those days where an over-priced scoop of ice cream is a necessity to keep on keeping on? There have been a lot of those lately. I am practically on a first-name basis with the sales help at my local Hediard on the corner of Rue Nicolo and Avenue Paul Doumer in the 16th arrondissement, and I have only lived here two weeks.

Good, I hope that got your attention. It’s not that the French avoid sex, drugs and loud music for eleven months of the year. But they are more discreet about when and where and how. When August comes, people remaining in Paris assume they’re just about the only ones left, only tourists are walking the streets, and no one is looking out of windows—a Parisian pastime. Clearly, that’s not the case.

Blame it on that movie “Taken,” about a girl named Amanda getting abducted trying to make her way from the airport into Paris, but I get a bit twitchy about ground transportation upon arrival in France. I recognize that this is an unfounded, irrational fear; as long as one does not abandon her common sense, there are a myriad of reasonable options to get into Paris from the airport(s). Sometimes, though, this means also doing a little homework.

I grew up with five brothers and no sisters. This meant I was destined to be either a tomboy or a priss. I became the latter. I learned French, how to tie a scarf and how to fix myself up with little visible effort put forth very early on. Eleven years of living in Paris followed. The die was cast; I had become a femme du monde of sorts, a well-traveled woman who valued the elegance and refinement a life in France has to offer.