Developing French Chic

My college nickname - given to me by my work-study employer - was "Desert Storm" - not because I wear fatigues and look like I could take down Iraqi insurgents with my bare hands, but rather because I have the terrible habit of breezing into a room looking like a bedouin refugee from a real desert storm, wind blown, flushed and a little bit dazed. It's true, though, that I love fashion and would love to be as chic as Luisa Casati, traipsing around the city draped in pearls, my pet leopards in diamond collars attached to my wrist. Unfortunately, I always manage to leave the house in a pair of torn jeans and a non-descript teeshirt, a bare minimum of supermarket makeup on my face. So I have decided that this year I will try to become more chic. With this in mind, I've done some serious research on the Parisian streets, trying to establish what it is that makes French girls look so fabulous. It seems that the tendancy this fall is towards slouchy, ethnic chic - oversized cardigans over leggings and boots, loosely pinned up hair, thick scarves made from eco-friendly materials like bamboo. This is a look I think I can pull off, and, happily, can be created relatively cheaply by sticking to the clothing stores of rue de Rennes.