Prove Your Love ~Once Upon a Time~ by Going Out With a Bang
We here at PARIS > D E F I N E D MAG get it — being unstraight is complicated, you’ve got your gender-attraction-reveal parties to plan, and spouses to inform, (or not). But…why not celebrate your entry into the swordfight ring here in Paris, City of Loveᵀᴹ, whether that love is coming or going?
(You know we never actually say, ‘C’est la vie’, right?)
We get it, guys: Sometimes one stumbles and falls down a rabbit hole full of dicks (I think that is what Alice in Wonderland was about, non ?) and emerges in front of the Louvre. And hungry, as it’s dinnertime and the closet is a tiring place to be. But so is the Musée du Louvre.
Or, for all the (soon-to-be single) ladies, take a big scissor to your chuppah and say:
Je suis not-so-straight!
And if your opposite-sex spouse (lol — what is this, 1992?) doesn’t roll with it, you’re now in a city of over 11 million (counting suburbs — so ick but edgy I suppose?) of mostly liberal, very ~French~ people. (You could be in Germany. Yikes…)
What to do next?
We believe in radical honesty, so yank off that band-aid and face tomorrow ~outside the closet~ but inside, perhaps, a new chapter of life. Also, never underestimate the power of the presence of members of the public preventing your spouse from taking a swing at you.
May we present a few heartwarming views and/or sexy environs for eating of food/breaking of hearts and radical altering of life plans — 2023 Edition
Steel yourself and say ‘aaaahhhh’
MOOD: OPEN-MINDED — Twenty-Two Club
More of a swinger’s dinner that doesn’t go to even first base than a romantic twosome nestled in a corner, as you’ll be sharing a table with twenty or so others, hence the name Twenty-Two club. A spot for the experimental/extroverted types, I suppose. Think of it as twenty witnesses to prevent public reprisal?
The food part of the experience is from none other than the team behind Verjus, so besides enjoying the view of the gardens and arcades (~classy architecture~ arcades, not Pacman and Fanta ones…) of the Palais Royal, they will take good care of your carnal, food-and-wine-related, needs. And just like the swingers’ clubs, the actual location is on the down-low.
OVERSHARE: Le sigh, my ex got all the interesting friends in the divorce and gets to go to their vegetable farm and château (near VERSAILLES FML) on the weekends, which, aside from everything, is the more infuriating aspect of the split. They have a beehive and grow a bunch of the veg for the restaurant, which screams ‘parental money involved —the west was never a meritocracy’, but who knows. The food is good.
In the Palais Royal neighborhood: Book here
MOOD: POOR — Parc de Belleville
Vivre d’amour et d’eau fraîche… Whilst living in Paris frequently means questionable weather, if you are broke AF, do you have much of a choice? Maybe for everything else there’s American Express, but what if you are a student or something and STILL gay? (It happens…) You still wanna impress your ~bae~ as you let them down, so we, proper socialist antifa George Soros adenochrome-guzzlers we are, start here. C’est chic, le pique-nique à Paris…
In the Belleville neighborhood: More deets here
MOOD: ALL IN — Le Jules Verne
We swing between the poles of two extremes here. Don’t waste one second, as you will have to plan your bombshell in time to snag a spot at the Michelin-starred Jules Verne restaurant. Downside: You can’t really see the Eiffel Tower, as you are on it. Guy de Maupassant would approve.
On the first floor of THE Tower, in the 7th arrondissement: Book here
MOOD: EXCLUSIONARY — Kong
There are only so many tables on this former rooftop enclosed in glass done up all fancy-like by none other than Philippe Starck — so get your phone out and snap a few for the ‘Gram before you do the big (gender? So many more sides of this LGBTQZYX010101001010+ thing after all)-reveal. Except for the part where you shout from the (former) rooftop about all the hot hot hot banging you’ve been doing with your heretofore non-threatening gym bro, your boo will appreciate the twinklingly posh experience that will perhaps distract him/her from the absolute bomb you are about to drop.
In the Louvre/Rivoli area of the 1st arrondissement: Book here
MOOD: BREATHLESS — Monsieur Bleu
As the river flows alongside (as nature intended), take your place in full view (depending on your table) of that tall metal thing that lights up, also as nature intended. Guy de Maupassant would not approve quite so much, but he’s dead, so go for it. In fact, did anyone lose harder than the Committee of 300 (losers) who opposed what would become the world’s most beloved monument?
At Palais de Tokyo, in the 16th arrondissement: Book here
MOOD: FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS — Les Ombres at Quai Branly
Up close and personal to La Dame de Fer is the museum next door, Musée Jacques Chirac Quai Branly. An offbeat choice and a great flex as everyone you know hasn’t already been there.
Inside the Quai Branly Museum, in the 7th arrondissement: Book here
MOOD: KITSCH-CHIC — Bustronome or Bus Toque
Want ALL THE VIEWS at the expense of a wee bit of the chic factor as…you’re on a bus. A tour bus? Oui, but « le plus classe » tour bus ever. You will see it all…and the food is even good as it’s all prepared on the lover level, whilst you, Queen de Toutes les Instagrammable Views, soak it all in up top. It’s the opposite of a mullet, as the business happens all downstairs (in an actual kitchen) whilst the party happens up top. Brilliant concept and well-executed by Bustronome and Bus Toque.
Whilst nobody with any taste admits publicly to liking bus tours, especially in the age of perpetual, unlikely, and widespread attempts at Paris Influencing, here we are. In fact, I would attribute a whopping 7% of my recent divorce causes to a ~disagreement~ over a bus tour pass purchased in Barcelona in 2012, so you can say I stand my most shameful ground here. Or…Je Suis Lazy (and aggressively basic.)
It tours le city of Love and Light® but you can catch it (usually — trust but verify) in front of the Eiffel Tower or something called ‘Champs-Élysées’ in the 7th arrondissement. Book here or here
MOOD: CAUTIOUS — Le Verre Volé
Maybe he only loves you for your money, but you, sapiosexual with certain highbrow tastes, may have found that special someone (so hopefully not). If only there was a way to test the hypothesis that you are loved for who you are on the inside — a packet of blood, viscera, microplastics, and sarcasm — teetering on western-style poverty (so, like, in possession of an old iPad but with no health insurance, unless you are French Like Us, which means you are Mad For Other Reasons, but can always see a doctor?)
One way to test if you are loved for your substance (beaucoup), or your razmatazz in le sack (also lots), or just your bank balance (depends), is to take your paramour for a dinner at Le Verre Volé. The divey atmosphere will make you wonder what the big deal is, but the plates start coming at you and it all begins to make sense. So you can both test your love and not skip a bomb AF meal in Paris (NEVER eat bad food in Paris, non ! Non ! Non !!! ) Just like we have plenty of astonishingly mediocre restos that look adorable as all hell, we also have some of the best, most playful, yet skillfully executed dishes that can be slung. In the case of Le Verre Volé, they are hiding in plain sight. (Our rec — just don’t sit outside.)
In the lively and never-tired-of-drama Canal St. Martin area of the 10th arrondissement.
(Editor’s note — IMPORTANT: Remove any vestiges of ChatGPT before we hit PUBLISH or they will think we are one of those marketing agency blogs.)
In Conclusion —
If you find yourself Gay, ~suddenly~, or just desire Dinner, perhaps you can snag a res at the above-mentioned restaurants.
Bon courage et Bon appétit !
Indecorous Culturevore and Polychrome Chow Virtuosa Kat Walker likes nice things.
She once went to a job interview for that was supposed to be for sales but was actually for prostitution (the high-class version, she hopes lol) at a fancy hotel in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower (article coming soon) and, another time interviewed for a position as a phone psychic.
She passed both with flying colors. However she declined the human trafficking position but stuck around longer than she should have to be able to write about it. (Are you not entertained?)
As for the telephone psychic gig, she only lasted one day, even though the pay was excellent. Wooooooo…..She sees you subscribing to our weekly PARIS RIGHT NOW dispatch . There is also a man in your future.
Now she is settled in as your Editor-in-Mischief here, leading the charge to not take Paris so damn seriously…let’s frolic a bit, non?
She writes fast and without prudence so if you enjoy this type of thing, editors aren’t free so here is le Patreon
When she’s not writing about croissants, love, culture, and lovable, sexy croissants, she is a gonzo performance artist whipping up a (usually) political ruckus. Her rabble rousing has provoked the attention of various public forums, like the time she appeared in the movie The Yes Men Fix the World as Russian journalist Laika Gagarina or was featured in RollCall’s Heard on the Hill for her mockery of the U.S. senate. Other efforts have landed her in the Le Nouvel Observateur, Chicago Sun-Times, Chicago Tribune, and the Reader.
In other places and other lives, the actual live guy who played Ross on Friends came to see her show at a NYC gallery.
She has never had a weirder lunch than that one when an FBI informant offered to kill her business partner for her.
She declined (phew) and that’s why she’s here, freely- and un-jailed-ly writing about croissants and perverts and the Eiffel Tower (in that order, usually) for PARIS > DEFINED MAGAZINE.
Her perfectly impossible dinner in Paris would be at Pierre Sang on Gambey (the waiter chooses the wine) with Genesis P. Orridge, Napoleon Bonaparte (he picks up the tab and the waiter knows this in advance when picking wines), Christopher Hitchens, Anais Nin, and Ketamine in attendance. Drinks after at le17 but back in time, like 2017.
Her favorite French word is ‘bruit’ but only when a hot girl says it slowly.
In a bid for your attention and approval she writes things here and manages this unruly tribe of Parisians endeavoring to bring you what Parising is really about.
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If you are mashing out a message to warn her of her crimes against grammar and punctuation save your time because she knows, she knows.