"La toilette de la jeune Hébreuse"

-The first chapter of the book I just opened is called "La toilette de la jeune Hébreuse."

-If my amusement at this - in no way lessened by the fact that I know this just refers to primping, dress, or beauty routine - isn't enough to have me banished from the Very Serious Library, perhaps my tendency to take short breaks to stare mindlessly at fashion blogs will. I looked at a slideshow of shoes - a sufficiently quick and SFW break, but one that somehow seems wrong sitting at the table in front of circulation where you have to be if consulting a book in especially bad condition.

-So, so much more primary. Just when I thought I was done with the mid-19th! Time to switch the diss focus to just those years? Hmm.

-WANT! Not the "cuties," who look great if hipsters are your thing, but the coffee. The coffee that isn't just consistent (coffee in Paris isn't bad, just consistently mediocre in precisely the same way) but good. OK, that and I look at these photos and think how New York these people all look, and miss that. Also, an iced coffee drink of any kind would hit the spot. (They do exist in Paris, but are over four euros and at Pain Quotidien, two strikes against.)

-Peer pressure alert! I have imitated the Parisian 15-year-olds who frequent my favorite bakery/café and worn (navy, tailored-looking) shorts with (black, ribbed) tights. The shorts (consignment Claudie Pierlot) are beautiful and now that I know about this method I will be wearing them every day year-round, also because, ahem, the exchange rate, and it seems I paid $65 for a pair of used shorts. The same price as my two pairs of Uniqlo corduroys and one of thrifted A.P.C. sailorish jeans combined. I don't regret this, though, because the shorts greatly improve my, uh, toilette. They will be my uniform, and I will not resort to Old Navy lounge pants. That, and I think I already have pasta enough for the rest of the semester in my dorm room. Suffer for fashion, indeed.