Buying a Bed in Paris

It almost sounds like the title of a French comedy.  And it has its farcical moments, bien sûr.  Here are some of the things I've learned through my recent experience shopping for a bed in Paris.

1.  Do a little research online, just in order to find out the component parts of a bed, where you might be able to purchase one, what the price range seems to be (hint - higher than in the US) and what things are called in French. 

2.  The average French bed comes with the mattress (matelas, pronounced mah-tuh-lah) and something called a sommiel (pronounced so-mee-ay).  It's not a box spring exactly, but it goes in the same position as a box spring.  You don't have to buy the sommiel, and it's sold separately from the mattress.  Some people use only the mattress, either alone or in a platform setting.

3.  One must also consider les pieds (like it sounds, the feet).  These are squat round wooden posts that the mattress and sommiel stand on to raise them off the ground (in lieu of that ugly metal frame with wheels that American bed salesmen get a few extra bucks for).  Again, the pieds are not necessary, but sometimes they come with the set.  You choose color and height (my salesman recommended the taller height because it would be better for under-bed storage; right he was!).

3.  French beds seem to be very, very soft, even when called firm (presumably because if you want something really hard, you'd sleep on a Japanese-style bed, which are quite popular in Europe).  If you want a firm western-style bed, you really have to try them out.  And generally, the firmer you want the bed, the more it's going to cost if you want a bit of softness on the top layer of it.  

4.  Speaking of which, they call the feeling at the top of the mattress the "accueil" (welcome/greeting/reception).  That took a while to figure out, as the salesman kept saying it each time I would lie down on a mattress model to try it out!

5.  You can buy beds online.  There appear to be at least a couple of reputable companies, but since I didn't use one, I will not name names.  They are easily found with an internet search.  However, an American friend who has lived here for years prefers the online option and avoiding the department stores.

6.  I was told by consumer and salesman alike that the reason French beds are so much more expensive than U.S. beds is that French people make a big investment in a bed and keep it far longer than in the U.S.  I still don't follow the relevance, but perhaps without the economies of scale, they have to charge more for each one they sell?

7.  I bought mine in one of the grands magasins (department stores).  I got lucky and landed in Paris right at the start of the big fall sales.  (I didn't know there was such a thing, since there's only supposed to be two big sale periods throughout the country, but this was not called a sale and, thus, I suppose it was not one, even though prices were reduced 30-50%.)  Each brand was offering a few beds on sale promotion.

8.  In a department store, the bed department is manned (peopled?) by a sales rep who is affiliated only with one brand.  If you want to compare among brands, do it on your own.  You won't get comparison information from the salesperson, as you bounce among however many sales people as equals the number of brands you're choosing among.  This may be why they're so expensive.  It seemed that stationed next to every six beds or so, there was another salesperson at a tiny desk. 

9.  Beds come in so many sizes!  It's important to write down the exact dimensions of your bed, and also how deep it is, because bed linens likewise come in as many sizes!  For example, there's a bed measuring 140x190 centimeters and other measuring 140x200 centimeters.  Really?  A ten-centimeter difference?  Yes, really.  And ditto the sheets and comforter covers.

10.  When the bed is delivered to you, the pieds get screwed into the bottom of the sommiel.  Then, the delivery people check both sides of the mattress carefully before "installing" it, because the mattress will have a winter side and a summer side, presumably each topped by a fabric appropriate to the season and having the secondary benefit of promoting a semi-annual flip of the mattress by the user.

11.  Unlike in New York City, when the delivery is scheduled, you're given a range of hours (of about 3 hours) by the store.  That morning or the night before, you get a call telling you exactly when to expect them to arrive.  Amazing, especially since they actually arrived right on time!  And there was no delivery fee!  I don't know if that's common or not, or if was related to the sale or the particular store involved.  Either way, I'm not complaining.

12.  Bed linens are interesting, too.  There are square pillows and rectangular pillows (also of varying sizes), made of many different levels of down, down and feathers, feathers only, or synthetic (not so different from in the U.S.).  As for sheets, flat sheets are rarely used and not as easy to find as fitted sheets.  That is because the traditional comforter (couette) usually gets covered with a comforter cover and, thus, it seems that there is no need for the top sheet.  It is a lot easier to make the bed in the morning, for sure, especially with the fish tail of extra fabric at the bottom of the comforter cover which gets tucked into the bottom end of the bed under the mattress in order to hold it into place.  What genius!

I decided it was worth all the effort and every euro spent!  My sleep is crucial to me, and I can say I am a contented consumer thus far.  Zzzzzzzzz......

What Every French Student and Teacher Has

 

My first school day, following class, found me at Gibert Joseph on the Boulevard Saint Michel.  This is where the teacher said to go to buy certain textbooks and school supplies with very particular specifications.

If you've ever walked around the Latin Quarter, you've certainly seen these storefronts with the  bright blue and yellow awnings, in a row one after another on the boulevard heading south from Boulevard Saint Germain.  I often wondered in passing what they were, but I never walked in.  They are large, well-stocked book and school supply stores that serve the students and teachers of the many universities in the area.

It was such a kick to buy school supplies again (for myself, that is), and after doing so for my kids for so many years at Staples, I can say with confidence that this is no Staples shopping experience.  There are so many different types of everything!  When I was searching for a lined spiral notebook, but with perforated pages AND holes punched in a certain way in order to accommodate the teacher's requirements, I had to ask for help and was directed to exactly the available alternatives - and there were many.  (Sorbonne teachers are particular, and they're not apologetic about it.)

This got me to looking at everything the store had, and to watching what the shoppers were shopping for.  And that brought me to the pen/pencil cases.  The full wall display always had someone - male and female - picking through them.  

 Interesting, I thought briefly. But then, when I attended my first phonetics class last week, the teacher walked in, placed on her desk her large bag, lifted a brightly colored pencil bag from it and plunked it down on the desk.  This she did every day, and it appeared to me that she probably did this at the start of every class she's ever taught.  

As I began to gather various writing instruments for the courses, in various colors (red, blue, brown) and types (highlighters, thin tip, pencil), plus an eraser (for obvious reasons), it was becoming clear to me that I needed one of these, too.

So there is, my bright red pencil case.  Ah, if becoming a French speaker would only be as easy as owning a French pencil case...

Rain rain (will NOT) go away!

In the shadow of the Pantheon in Paris resides Simon.  Simon Parapluies, that is, seller of fine umbrellas.  

In New York, I'm usually the "$5 special" purchaser, the one who finds the umbrella street vendors who sprout up from the rain - the heavier the rain, the more vendors to be found.  How long those umbrellas last is a mathematical equation I know well from years of experience; they last until the first to occur of (i) the next heavy rain/wind combo, when I'm likely going to have to plant it in a corner trash bin with its other upturned and maimed brethren, or (ii) forgetting it in the subway, bus or some other location around town.

But in New York, generally, rain can be accurately predicted and is not a daily event.  Until I spent so much consistent time in Paris, I wouldn't have understood this difference in weather patterns.  Here, it might rain in the morning, improve at noon, and fall apart again at dusk.  Or the other way around, or any number of other combinations.  And looking up at the sky is no hint.  A sunny morning can lead to rain later; a very cloudy sky all day can lead to nothing but continued clouds.  

After being caught twice, with nothing more than a light wool sweater and a heavy bag of books to walk home with, I happened to walk past Simon.

I was curious and wet, and so I stepped in to watch the two animated sales people behind the counter spend the longest time I've ever witnessed focused on the ins and outs, benefits and disadvantages of a given umbrella with a customer.  I also saw a customer breeze in and step directly up to the gentleman of the shop to thrust at him her umbrella, which was in desperate need of repair. 

Apparently, umbrella ownership is a long term investment to these people.  I was hooked.  I decided that what I needed was something very light and very small, so that I could sock it away in the depths of my handbag and have it with me at all times (and therefore hope to avoid eventuality number (ii) above).  So, when it was my turn with the saleswoman, she presented the options within their offerings with great seriousness and flair, including the how-tos of opening and closing, having me hold the open umbrellas in front of the full-length wall mirror one at a time in order to see how they "look on me" and then, finally making a choice.  

I've never spent so much time on a 30 euro purchase.  I've also never before spent 30 euros on an umbrella.  (Of course, one can get really hooked, as described in a recent article in the New York Times.  I appreciated the sentiments expressed by the writer in his piece about the layers of experiences one can encounter when in Paris over and over again in a lifetime.  I have felt that way, too.  I wonder, is it Paris, or can any place have that effect?)

Later that evening, when I got caught yet again, I had the chic new umbrella with me, et voilà, the pleasure of my stroll was saved and I wasn't soaked at dinner.