Killing Time.

As a not so studious student in Paris, I feel one has to master the technique of killing time. It's a required art form known only to those who have time to kill. At times it can be a very problematic issue however rest assured, like with most problems there is usually a solution and Paris is a city which caters very well for those with too much time on their hands.

For starters, I have a mere seven hours of lectures a week. A WEEK?! These structured hours are somewhat precious to me as they give me a small piece of regulated routine. The rest of the allotted hours in my week are completely at my disposal. Although this might seem like a wonderful prospect with uncountable lie ins, late nights, mindless wanderings, to me it poses rather a more daunting prospect. How to make my time worthwhile.

With this in mind, I decided to go shopping. In my imaginary world where I have ten grand to spend without keeling over and having an immaculate looking shop assistant put a hair out of place in order to help me to my feet again. I started by heading to Rue Etienne Marcel  in search of renowned hipster hangout Kiliwatch. There's a huge variety of clothing, accessories, shoes both men's and women's and the best feature of this store was the size. The place just seemed to go on and on and ON.

Although the prices weren't extortionate they were at the higher end of my spending bracket, however I would always recommend investing in vintage as it's one of a kind and you just can't beat that attic smell as if it's been in a loft for decades.

As I was out and about, killing time or k-ing t as I've come to call it. I walked to Opéra to get completely distracted in Galeries La Fayette. Oh what a marvellous place. The smell of expensive leather and sickly perfume that hits you as you heave open the heavy glass doors is pretty hedonistic to say the least. As with any of these department stores it all seems a bit of a stage show, however this does make them ideal places for a spot of k-ing t. I'd heard through the grape vine that

Topshop had come to Paris and the news excited me no end. However I was disappointed when I came across the pop-up store on the second floor at Galeries La Fayette. There was only a sample of clothes neatly placed on rails and a very un-intersted shop assistant gazing into space. All the same it was nice to be connected to the mother land for a brief moment.