Allow us to flashback to Paris Fashion Week for a second. We mean, if we had a time machine, we hypothetically couldn't think of a better use—just saying. As is custom in the land of Balmain, brie and baguette, and in between all that Margiela and CHANEL (oh, the CHANEL), we happened to come down with a serious case of who’s-that-girl syndrome. And not to get all Eve-circa-2001, but when you spot a girl who looks like a younger, French logo-loving (we’re talking Sonia Rykiel and Kenzo, here) almost-sister of Charlotte Gainsbourg in nearly every front row and at just about every impossibly cool party, you’ve kind of got some sort of social responsibility to piece it together, right?
A little Cov-style super sleuthing later (social media does have its uses, kids) lead us not only to the girl, who turned out to be the one and only Jeanne Damas, but also right to her apartment door. (Yes, we’re that good.) And let’s just say it took approximately T-minus zero seconds for us to realize that Damas is, in fact, the ultimate Parisian. We mean, she actually has that just-woke-up-like-this, shaggy-banged, full-lipped beauty that all of those How-to-be-Française self-help books plug (don’t even say you haven’t picked up one or two of those and shrugged them off as a guilty pleasure. Please.)
As Damas frolicked on her perfectly Parisian balcony—complete with the whole famous City-of-Light rooftop view thing, of course—and puffed on Gauloises, we got to the good stuff: namely, her clothes. And, of course, leave it to the ultimate French It-girl to have the the ultimate French closet—we mean, how could she not? Going through her wardrobe was like playing I-Spy with the most iconic of French labels: hello, Sonia, Céline, Dior and Isabel Marant; not to mention Olympia Le Tan, Kenzo and Surface to Air among scores of Louise Damas, the chunky, intensely-hued jewelry designed by her sister (because of course). So next time you find yourself boarding an Air France flight, leave the guidebooks at home—a few hours with Damas is hands down the best education on Parisian style we’ve had yet. Or, you know, better yet, burn 'em.