Christmas Shopping In Toulouse

Toulouse Christmas Market

It’s official, I have become a bumpkin!  Five years of rural French living have squeezed the sophistication out of me, like toothpaste from the tube, almost without my noticing.  It was brought to my attention with blinding clarity one wet chilly Tuesday in late December.

It all began with a request to Santa for an LBD for Christmas.  The old boy deputed one his elves – heavily disguised as the beloved – to escort me to the metropolis, wine me, dine me and buy me something wildly gorgeous.  The metropolis in our case is Toulouse.  Sophisticated, rose-pink and undeniably youthful – it was a bit of a shock.  The city centre was heaving, people were moving en masse like a nest of chic ants.  Every sleek, soignée girl had knee-high shiny boots.  Mine were ankle-length and a tad dusty.  Every man was cool to the point of boredom and well under twenty-five.  Mine was harassed, fifty and a tad dusty.  Hmmm. I mused, slightly appalled at the yawning gulf between the two, time for a change of lifestyle.

We stopped for a coffee-break in a well-packed café, bursting at the seams with students on holiday and the young of the Midi preparing for Christmas.  I took serious stock of the situation.  Sleek and soignée.  Well I could do that, a haircut and six months in a beauty salon might produce soignée.  Sleek could be a bit tricky.   I’d have to take up jogging…  And carry on with those sit-ups and all that jazz.  But I could then get myself some long, elegant boots – or perhaps not because it would be summer by this time – et voila!  The man-thing would be harder.  Harassment could be cured easily enough, and I could perhaps give him a bit of a brush down, buy a new t-shirt – which he won’t wear.  But fifty?  Well I could either trade him in for a newer, sportier model or spruce him up a bit – go-faster stripes, that sort of thing.  I looked across the two feet of shiny chrome, where the object of the exercise was communing with his mobile – now that was pretty cool – and stole a quick appraising glance.  Perhaps I should get him waxed for Christmas?

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Christmas Shopping In Toulouse from French Vie

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