On the Hunt

   If there are two times a year I’m certain to hear from staging.bonjourparis.com readers, it’s during the winter and summer sales. One Bonjour Paris shopper confided she bought so much in one boutique that she was able to negotiate an extra 10% reduction before the detax.  Many people, especially business types, do their purchases in the duty free section of the airport. Duty free is not profit free, and unless you’re buying liquor, cigarettes, cigars and perhaps, cosmetics (you’ll find a somewhat limited selection), there are few, if any, bargains to be had before you board the plane.   She and her husband were in and out of the city so fast that all they did was shop.   And eat! They ate at some of Paris’ best restaurants. Both were exhilarated over the purchases they were taking home, along with an extra plus: they were using up so much energy shopping that they weren’t gaining weight from the food. Time was such an issue that they always took the RER or the metro. Paris cognoscenti know it’s the fastest form of transportation from here to there.   When they weren’t shopping, they were definitely eating; Les Ambassadeurs, Market, Au Bon Accueil, Chiberta, and other restaurants of note were among some of the places. This is a yearly pilgrimage this couple has been making for the past eight winters.   I should add that the couple is lovely and educated. But, Paris is their shopping and eating Mecca. They go away on weekends and on other vacations (ah, the baby-boomer generation) to New York City to get their fill of theater and museums. Travel is part of their lives and a mutually shared love.   Inspired by their shopping spree, I decided to “do” the soldes. (sales).  I love shopping in other countries – it’s a cultural experience. I don’t love shopping in Paris. First, since I’m a French resident, I don’t qualify for the detax (approximately a 14% tax rebate for non-EU residents leaving a member country).   Second, I hate crowds, and bargain hunters in French department stores haven’t taken etiquette lessons. All is fair when it comes to snagging a good deal and the sales personnel tend to be grumpy. I don’t blame them, considering the pushing and pulling.   However, I needed a new lamp and took the occasion to climb aboard the RER and shuttle across town. Rather than going up to the top floor of the department store, I found myself on the lower level where children’s clothes are stocked. (Grandmothers do that.) There was nothing worth buying at any price.   I couldn’t help but notice that the adjoining department, (interesting placement, eh?) is the lingerie department. Beautiful lingerie is an indulgence many French women wouldn’t live without. My mother always told me that even if I were wearing jeans; it was essential that my underwear be clean and pretty. This was in case I was run over by a car — I’d look “like a lady” when I was taken to the hospital.   Paris and Italy are known for their fabulous selections of underwear. But give me a break … a pair of underpants for 100 Euros and these weren’t even the most expensive. When I asked the saleswoman if she had any which cost less, she waved me away in a manner that conveyed that I was cheaper than cheap. Clearly there’s an incredible employee discount or she has a rich and sexy lover.   By this time, my head was spinning. I decided I’d save my underwear purchases for when I’m next in the U.S.: T.J Maxx, Loehmanns and other discount stores, where there are  terrific selections and  I won’t feel as if I am breaking the bank. Besides, who needs all that lace that’s manufactured in China and assembled in the EU?   Executives at French department stores admit their numbers were down in 2005. The sales can make or break the year. Even though Americans are ready to buy, you can’t help but notice groups of Japanese tourists combing the streets of Paris, holding multiple shopping bags. Frequently there were bilingual guides with them expediting the sales process and having the packages delivered to hotels. I wouldn’t want to be after them in the detax line at the airport. They have so many papers to hand the dounes (customs agents) who are known to be curious and want to see the purchases.   Many people, especially business types, do their purchases in the duty free section of the airport. Duty free is not profit free and, unless you’re buying liquor, cigarettes, cigars and perhaps, cosmetics (you’ll find a somewhat limited selection), there are few if any bargains to be had before you board the plane.   After my shopping spree, I was starving but didn’t have a lot of time. After exiting the metro, I ended up in one of Paris’s ubiquitous steak houses. The Hippopotamus (a part of the Flo chain) makes no pretensions. You can eat there for 12 Euros at lunchtime and have some form of beef, unlimited frites (French fries) and a glass of wine. It’s France’s equivalent of a Wrangler Steak House.     Within minutes of our being seated, a woman with snow white hair of advancing years marched into the restaurants and insisted on changing tables not once but three times. She ordered and then complained when the steak was a tiny bit overcooked. The waiter offered to replace the steak and the two difference accompanying sauces (not comme il faut) and anything else this iron-clad willed lady wanted.  Rather than accepting, she declined – saying that she was late for the sales where she was going to buy towels.    I knew I was home and was glad we weren’t going shopping at the same time. There’s no way I could have competed with that over 80-year-old woman. She might have beaten me…