Montmartre, Grand Boulevards and the covered passageways

Montmartre, Grand Boulevards and the covered passageways

 

Paris, like most big cities, is a study in contrasts, particularly as it relates to “retail therapy”.

A visit to Printemps makes even high-end department stores such as Bloomingdales or Nordstrom seem, well… pedestrian. While I am certainly no index of fashion, I am a bit of a watch aficionado. There is an entire floor at Printemps of boutiques-within-a-store dedicated to the full line of brands such as Piaget, Rolex, IWC, Omega, Tag, Bell & Ross, Cartier, etc. Pick a category from luggage, clothing, shoes, cosmetics, purses, it’s all like that.

Across the street in the areas near Boulevard Haussmann is United Colors of Benetton, as are many other major fashion labels. And we’re not even near the Champs-Élysées.

This is also a fine residential area, a banking center where the banks often look like a foreign embassy and confection shops look like they came right out of the 1920’s. Even the police station looks more like a fine hotel than anything you’d find in the Bronx.

Residences [left]

Bank [right]



Police station [below]

Confectionary from another era.
[left & below]

Then there’s shopping for another type of shopper in the covered passageways sandwiched between buildings under a wrought iron and glass roof. The first, “The Panoramas”, was opened in 1799 and the Jouffroy and Verdeau several decades later in the mid 1800’s.

The passageways are an eclectic collection of fine art restoration, rare books, historic photos, antique toys, postage stamps for the philatelists, café’s, restaurants, a hotel, a wax museum, antique hardware (restored and “original”), oriental rugs, flea market junk, frame shops, bakeries, confectionaries and bars. The patrons are just as eclectic indeed.

But the highlight of the day’s explorations in the passageways was this Norman Rockwell photo opportunity that I’m glad I didn’t miss. Where else would someone paint a centuries old window frame (that had been stripped down to the wood) with paint from a teacup, with an artist’s paintbrush, dressed in a vest and a fedora, all under the watchful eye of the proprietor?

That’s Paris!