The Night I Went Back to Paris Without Leaving Home

For the past few years I have been living with end stage hip osteoarthritis and with it pain has a way of bringing life to a halt.

Last night mine did exactly that. The kind that keeps you from sleeping and makes every position uncomfortable. I decided rather than fighting it, I would simply take my mind somewhere else.

So I went back to Paris.

If you’ve ever been there, you know the city never quite leaves you. It waits quietly in your memory until something calls it forward again.

The journey started with fashion—because for me, style is often the beginning of a story.

I imagined what would happen if Ralph Lauren asked me to design a capsule wardrobe for a woman who moves through a full day of life with elegance and ease. Not a fantasy woman, but a real one. The kind of woman who attends a networking coffee in the morning, meets with colleagues in the afternoon, and ends the evening on a patio with friends.

The foundation of the collection was a navy wrap dress, deep enough to nearly read black, cut in a fabric with weight and movement. Timeless, flattering, and effortless.

Alongside it, chambray pleated slacks with pockets—relaxed but tailored enough to feel polished.

The heart of the look, though, was the blouse. Instead of paisley, I imagined a cream silk shirt covered in an all-over horsebit print in rich tones of pink, blue, orange, green, and red. It leans fully into the equestrian heritage that defines the Ralph Lauren aesthetic.

Over it, a light pink bouclé blazer with gold buttons.

Feminine. Structured. Confident.

Accessories finished the story: navy espadrilles with jute trim and a cream horsebit emblem, a bright pink leather tote with striped handles, layered gold chains, a monogram ring, and a silk scarf in the same colors tied loosely at the neck.

And every collection deserves a fragrance.

If it were up to me, I would bring back the original Lauren fragrance by Ralph Lauren. It was my signature scent from the time I was sixteen. Fresh, elegant, unmistakable. I suspect many women my age would instantly recognize it if it returned.

From there the day unfolded naturally.

A networking coffee.
A meeting at the office.
Lunch with a group of inspiring women.
Errands across town.
Drinks on a patio as the evening light fades.

But in my mind this woman also travels.

Her suitcase includes a classic trench coat with that horsebit print lining hidden inside, navy ankle pants, and a navy-and-cream striped boatneck tee with gold shoulder buttons.

The destination, of course, is Paris.

Her first evening begins with a dinner cruise along the Seine. As the boat glides under the Eiffel Tower just as the lights begin to sparkle, the city seems almost unreal.

The next morning begins simply with a croissant and espresso before wandering through the Louvre.

Afterward she stops at Carette for something sweet before drifting through boutiques and galleries, the best way to spend an afternoon in Paris.

In one tiny vintage shop she discovers a delicate beaded evening bag. It is impractical and perfect—exactly the sort of thing you hope to find while traveling.

Later, beneath the magnificent glass dome of Galeries Lafayette, she finds a silk A-line dress from an up-and-coming designer she once read about in W Magazine. Paired with glass drop earrings from a secondhand shop, the beaded bag, and her scarf tied neatly around a bun, the look becomes the perfect Paris evening outfit.

She takes a car to Montmartre.

Dinner in a small café. Music drifting through narrow streets. Artists painting under warm lights.

Before heading back she buys two small treasures: a silk shawl to drape over her shoulders and a tiny oil painting of a French countryside scene in a gilded frame.

Years from now those little objects will hold the memory of that night.

And the truth is, much of this story is not entirely imagined.

My first and only trip to Paris was unforgettable. During our stay at the InterContinental Paris Le Grand we unknowingly shared the hotel with President Zelenskyy while world leaders gathered to show support for Ukraine. French soldiers lined the cobblestone streets below our balcony for blocks. It felt safe, organized, almost effortless.

Paris continued around it all—cafés open, people walking, life unfolding as usual.

That contrast is part of what makes the city so remarkable.

Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still hear the faint sounds of the street drifting through an open balcony door.

Paris never really leaves you.

Sometimes it simply waits for the right evening to return.