21 January 2013

This time is my first time attending Paris couture week. No, I'm not (yet) invited to such major shows as Chanel or Dior (even more Givenchy, because they cancelled the show for this season. Ugh). But I got some invitation from some young designers for couture presentations. The week is gonna be so full of drama. And  even from the very first second can I foresee.

It's a couture week, a week that I had been preparing even since before I resided to Europe. So, when normal people need a suitcase for one week trip, I bring two huge suitcases, one hand bag, one paper back (some little gifts for my Parisian friends!), and a huge fluffy fur coat, which can consume one suitcase on its own. I'm not a magazine EiC or some thing like that. I'm a blogger without assistant so i have to do almost everything on my own.

God bless my boyfriend that he took me to the Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof main train station on breezy freezing Sunday afternoon, that I, 5'9" 52kg (BMI: 16,97!) asian twink, don't need to carry all those fashion weapon from my apartment to the main station. My boyfriend looked so worried (or pitying me?) when I walked out of the car with those stuff, but again, Lord have mercy that he could find a parking lot (it's as easy as getting Chanel discount!) so he helped me to get to the train, including putting the suitcases on the rack above the seat (which he did it with such ease that I can never do in million years). So there I was, sitting nicely inside ICE.

Well, I thought I was safe because after I arrive in Paris, there will be a village of friends picking me up, so they can help me out with those stuff. But real drama began. My trip, which was supposed to be a direct trip, wass changed to one-time transfer in Saarbruecken. They just told us after we boarded. So unfair! I HATE transfer, because you can not sleep when you have transfer. You have to be awake because the possibility of falling asleep is beyond scary. So I was awake for the whole trip. I didn't sleep long the night before (it's gonna be one full week without my bf, so I couldn't help but making my best in the last night if you know what I mean *wink* ), I was in rush in the morning before the trip because I ALWAYS skip something to be packed, so I missed my breakfast too. And the bistro in train has no good food selection that I lost appetite just when I enter it.

When we are scheduled to arrive in Saarbruecken, they said that the connecting train is gonna be right beside the way out. It was not. It was one platform beside, so I little tiny asian have to go down and up stepping stairs with all my belongings just to get to that platform. No elevator, no escalator, no lift, no trolley, no porter. I think I lost 5 kg just by moving that one platform.

We arrived there at 3pm, and our connecting train was not there. We had to wait for one hour and a half with bone-stinging minus three degree weather outside. So we waited. When the connecting train arrived, I swore that I will always use TGV or something more sophisticated.

In total, my trip from Frankfurt to Paris by ICE was late for two hours. TWO oh God hours. I recall an article saying that the average time for lateness of Japan train is 1,5 seconds (dang!), and I think German train breaks all the records of the most-long train delay in history of human being. 

But it's Paris. It's couture week this time. And I will not let a frustrating trip ruin my most beautiful time in Paris.

Signorefandi, Paris I'm coming, again!