Street style in Paris

You can spot a Brit anywhere. It’s our charming awkwardness; our delicate self-awareness; our orderly queuing; and, when in Paris, we are the ones trying to outshine the locals.

Catching the Metro you are constantly glancing around to spot that effortless Parisian style. But don’t. As soon as you begin scrutinising every Pierre et Lucie you will lose sight of the very thing you are looking for.

Parisian style is in the nonchalance, in the swagger and the distracted way they put themselves together. Not just that though, it’s the gentle details that give their outfits finesse; the French respect good tailoring as we Brits respect a bargain. If there is one secret to take from the French capital’s inhabitants, it’s to only ever buy for quality, not your purse.

Don’t let me try to explain their mystery, let them do it themselves. Here is a collection of my favourite fille et garcon I found whilst perusing the streets of Paris.

Poor girl was trying to cross the road but I grabbed her.

Christened by a friend as 'Olivier' (and her "perfect man ever, ever") he seemed confused as to why he should be blogged, "I'm just going to work!". But, oh Olivier, it's your jacket and the pristine tailoring.

Here is Alix, it was the grey and dark sand shades that grabbed me. How the coat and boots match but slightly off-colour together, and the separation by the grey.

We named this chap 'Laurent'. I loved his genuine surprise when asked if I could photograph him; then again, maybe it was just shock of seeing an English girl run at him.

Here is my poor first victim. Sat in a cafe after exploring Montmartre sans map, she sauntered past. Cue my sprint down the road trying to find her, followed by some dithering French attempt on my part. But it was worth it, for the jacket if nothing else.