The Best Places in Paris to Let Your Spouse Know You Are Actually Gay Now, Starting 2 Weeks Ago

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

Dis­clo­sure: Usu­al­ly lots of peo­ple there so this must have been staged.

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

view from 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


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. 

les ombres at quai branly restaurant view
You see it too, right?

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?)

So —

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 !


Kat Walk­er

+ posts

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.

Sub­scribe HERE to the P > D newslet­ter for a week­ly dose of her, and the rest of the ram­bunc­tious and per­fect­ly depraved gals’ tren­chant and thought-pro­vok­ing opin­ions. Or tune in to their high­brow cul­ture com­men­tary and bike rid­ing through Paris on PARIS » D E F I N E D TV.

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.

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