I have neglected this blog. Big time. And I could throw out excuses (and I think I will anyways so you have some sort of explanation and I will feel vindicated in a weird way) but that would in no way make up for the three months I have not updated this little corner of the internet. Basically, here go my excuses: I was busy falling in love – with a country already in love with art, with golden cities, with blurry nights, with rain-glazed roof tops, and with glowing, blushing people.
I suppose I should re-introduce myself. Maybe because you have forgotten (a little bit) about the girl in the little black dress but also maybe because I am not the same person I was in March (the last time I wrote here). Hello. My name is Natalie. And I am 17. The past 9 months I have been in France studying french (shocker!). I still like peppermint tea and clear umbrellas and red daisies and funny socks. I still like strawberry ice cream and walking barefoot through grass and late night bubble baths. But I like new things too now.
I like going to loud concerts in Paris and spending lazy Saturdays in cafés that smell like fancy perfumes and cigarettes. I like rainy days more than ever, and I collect itchy sweaters. I also like lavender jam and writing stupid poetry and listening to Vampire Weekend on repeat.
I have been writing a lot lately. Mostly nonsense (and I won’t put the majority of it on the internet). But I can tell you this: the past 9 months in France were the best of my life thus far. And essentially out of fear of forgetting everything, I have been recording and thinking and reminiscing. And here is something I wrote in my journal last week to help you understand. I hope you will.
” So that’s how I got here, I guess. And I realized something today: that I will be okay. That one day I will look back and read these confused poems and trite letters and I will have forgotten what Wednesday nights were like in December and what it felt like to be 17. I will have forgotten the buckets of rain that pooled on my shoulders all the days my umbrella snapped. I will have forgotten Madison Avenue and Backstage and listening to 505 for hours in a bed that was too white.
I imagine that some day I will wear red lipstick and 2 inch heels and have a boss that smokes. And one day, I will pull this little black book (my journal) out from the back of my closet and I will read it and everything will seem childish and small. I guess that’s what makes me so sad. Because these things happened and they were important to me. Right now, they are everything.
There was a big, wooden house that I called home, and when it rained, the windows got blurry and I had to call the boy next door because I couldn’t see him from out my bedroom glass. There was a girl with golden hair and rose lips and she held me when I was okay. But also when I wasn’t. And there were 2 o’clock coffees and blue dresses and 3 ams spent with warm, pink people.
I hope I am wrong and that I won’t actually forget the white houses or the stupid boys or the spinning lights. But just in case I do and 30 year old me doesn’t remember what it was like to be 17, I need her (the Natalie wearing lipstick and a pencil skirt who lives in a big city) to know that we were dumb and alive; that we were glowing from the inside out
and that everything was green – the green that is so light its almost white but it’s not. Its green.”
I realize some of that may not make sense to you with no context but that is the just of how I am feeling right now. I’ve been looking at a lot of the photos I took in France recently and I want to share them with you. So in the next few days/weeks (hopefully it won’t take me too long), I am going to attempt to recount my year through photos/things I wrote that I feel okay putting on el internet. I hope all is well and that you haven’t completely forgotten about the girl in the little black dress.
XX, The Girl in the Little Black Dress
P.S. Listen to this song - Paris by Magic Man
P.P.S. Here’s a photo of the city I fell in love with. More to come.