It had been a long time since I had been to Paris. And what better excuse than to visit my gal Sara? I will admit I miss her terribly so it was right about time.
On Saturday morning, inspired by the blogger of 70percentpure Stéphanie, we went to , on Bd Beaumarchais 111.
Stéphanie, merci.
We loved every square inch of the place. Sara, who’s been a parisienne for some time now, even dubbed it ‘the best place ever’. That goes to say…
How to convey what Merci is…
Should we start by talking about the breathtaking entrance with its red Fiat 500…
… or tell you about all the cool brands exposed in the huge plurilevel space. The light. The concrete. The sheer coolness of it all.
Merci is a promise.
A promise you’ll get sucked in for hoooours.
You’re even likely to sell your soul for one of its many treasures.
I almost did, for this gorgeous little Picnic cluth by Marie Turnor. Totally matching my shoes, too! But Sara infused some sense into me.
The library café. The home department that will make you reinvent your house a dozen ways in a split second. The lovely mask tape. The isabel marant collection. The aesop stand. The lamps.
Oh, and did I mention the restaurant in the basement? So playful, fresh and comforting.
Us gals had planned lunch elsewhere but we were scotched to the place. We knew if we left, we’d hate anywhere we’d set foot in.
So we stayed and had a salad plate and a freshly made lemonade.
De.Li.Cious.
Merci is merciless. It hardly lets go on its grip. You’ll be thankful you’re its merry prisoner for the day.
