I walk past a housewares shop. Little Eiffel Towers are tilting this way and that way on kitchen towels, notecards and key chains. Then I see a bed-linen shop. Through the window, my hungry eyes devour the silky sheets, the soft blankets and the fluffy, pale green bathrobe.

I’m doing a Breakfast at Tiffany’s here, taking in sweet colors of lavender, cream, pale sage green. Beautiful leather cases and wicker baskets.

The French call this lèche-vitrine…window-licking. Now I know why. I want everything I see in the window.

I exhale slowly and feel that I’m calming down. Deep relaxation at the sight of such gorgeous things. The beauty and the longing. Why are the French so good at this?