Once February approaches, Paris becomes a little lighter. You can feel the woolly layers of winter lifting as afternoons stretch their arms a little wider to let you in.
It's been another cold winter here in France. But despite some compulsory mumble-grumbles, the natives haven't let a little snow and ice get to them. While the rest of us cower behind bulky turtlenecks and scarves and hide our wind-beaten hair and hands under woolen hats and gloves, Parisian women seem to say, "Pooh-pooh!" in their fur-lined doudounes and sleek leather boots. The fact that it's still dark out at 8am doesn't seem to faze their morning beauty routines either. As tempting as it may be for us weaker souls to mimic winter’s lazy sun and stay hidden under the eiderdown, les Parisiennes manage to look perky (well, everything’s relative) and rosy-faced throughout the dreary winter months. As for me, I think I’d rather wait till spring creeps over the windowsill.