Étiquette

n. – étiquette, manners
I made a major faux pas today, which literally translated means false step. I decided to throw caution to the wind on this bright and sunny day and go to my yoga class in my yoga clothes. Mind you, the outfit was subdued. It wasn’t the ultra yogi look with flared pants decorated with dragons or lotus flowers, but rather a pair of simple lightweight black workout pants and a black t-shirt.

“Quand même” or even so, I was convinced at any moment I would be pulled over by the French fashion police as I was in clear violation of the French fashion code. One simply does not wear their workout outfits to and from home and workout place. That’s what “vestiaires” or changing rooms are for.

The problem with the vestiaires, like many Parisian spaces, is that they’re often small. Given that the classes are crowded, I just wasn’t in the mood to cram myself in and try to avoid elbowing anyone while changing clothes. Plus it shaves off time from my commute, instead allowing me to leisurely enjoy the metro musicians and beggars of which today I was treated to two different ones in only five stops.

There must be something about the nice weather that tempts people, just like me, to want to break the rules. Across from me on my short ride, was a woman who was eating a sandwich. Somehow, the metro is the last place I feel like ingesting food, but I suppose she also was trying to maximize her time. Once finished, she decided to turn over the plastic bag and deposit all of the crumbs – some quite large – on the floor of the train. Really - I thought to myself – are those crumbs weighing you down so much that you can’t wait until you’re off the train and pass by one of the many trashcans in the station?

On the walk from the station to my apartment, I watched another woman simply discard a piece of trash on the street when there was a trashcan only yards from where she was standing. Littering is a problem the world over, but I do find it particularly odd in such a beautiful city where people pride themselves on beautiful things that they just throw the trash in the street.

Dog poop is a problem here, as well. You can get a fine for not picking up after yours, but I’ve never seen anyone get caught. Don’t dog owners have an equal disdain for stepping in poop? And gum chewers who throw their gum on the sidewalk – how do they know that one day they won’t be the ones to step in it?

Well, nobody’s dead, as my mother-in-law likes to say to keep small infractions in perspective. But it would be a nicer place if people would pick up after themselves and I suppose an even more beautiful place if everyone dressed well. So I will do my part the next time I go to class to put on some real clothes with the hopes that the litterers and dog walkers and gum chewers will follow suit in their own way.