It's difficult not to feel self-conscious in Paris. The city's reputation as the pinnacle of high fashion is well known: but it's more than just clothes, it's the whole attitude. A flick of the wrist to stub out a cigarette, the casual, almost lazy swagger, a nonchalant tilt of the head to express distate. This is kind of stupid, but a few days ago, while sitting in a laundrette, waiting for my washing; I couldn't help feeling that, the cluster of students hanging around, just knew something was up. I was an outsider. They obviously sat around waiting for their laundry with so much more style than moi. All this could just be dismissed as arrogant posturing, but it's difficult to not feel at least some empathy towards the Parisians, and their disdainful attitude towards outsiders.
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