The Love Affair

ª5 has adorned my wrist for five and a half years now. Such smells as º5 evoke strong memories for me and the golden liquid symbolizes a love affair that began before I even wore perfume. I was seven when I picked up my first french grammar book at a family friend’s house and proceeded to learn the alphabet that night, later reciting it for my family with pronunciation guided by the book in the sheer and sudden possession of francophilia. Very shortly after that I announced my plans to go to Paris... someday. As it turned out I would wait until I was fourteen to fulfill this dream. As a family we went to London and Paris. I was captivated by the city I’d dreamt of. Having taken french lessons starting at age nine after begging for them, several years later in Paris I was the official “translator” for the trip. Needless to say

my french still had a lot of room for improvement, but speaking its words filled me with excitement- as if I had a secret no one else could touch. Though fourteen and gangly, as I ate chevre and drank earthy french wines and smelled the Seine I felt French- I felt home. My hair was short and my brooding pre-teen stare in many pictures taken during the trip felt like the right look for Paris, in addition to a black Calvin Klein dress worn obsessively as a badge of Parisian pride. The spell was complete