by Kristen CoConis


While strolling from the Marais to the Louvre one evening thirty years ago,
we happened upon rue St. Denis.

It was incredible.

The street was a phantasmagoria of wonderful women.

They wandered the sidewalks and lounged in caf├ęs,
leaned against walls and posed in doorways.
Virtuous voluptuaries and wanton waifs.
Boas, chiffon, leather and lace.

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