All the cars in France are the same.
I counted, one time on the street, while Anna was in the store buying sandwiches at 10:00 PM after a hard night of scrounging in the streets for house supplies. Among the items we found: two pots for cooking, some cups, a wicker chair, a knife. But I digress: while Anna was in the store, I counted cars. 9 out of 10, the same type. Different brands, years, sure. But all the same. That hatchback, small, Euro-style economy size with the decent gas mileage and surprising cargo space, if low headroom. The rest are trucks or rich people driving cars that look like '85 Mercedes sedans. I literally can't tell the difference between tens of manufacturers and makes of cars.
They all look the same. I guess that's the style that works. And the style that works, if it works, is applied uniformly here. Look at the hair, or the clothes. Everybody in the latest fashion, which means everybody wearing the same uniform. The one that says, "Don't mind me, I'm hip and up-to-date. Nothing to see here." Or they wear the uniform of the concerted nonconformist, the one that you get at the non-conformist store next-door. And not just clothes, but hairstyles, lifestyles. But it's just a uniform. This is a by-product of rich society. When you have the luxury to be bohemian, to be a beggar, or to be a pinstriped businessman all with the same amount (or lack) of effort, it follows that the distribution would be uniform between them. But they end up looking the same, because the approach is the same: buy the latest thing, discard the old. Where does it go? Right in the street, for the taking. That's what we're finding out.
The beggars here look like everybody else: wearing nice clothes, but asking you for money. I'm thinking, "Are you sure you shouldn't give me some money? You see, my supply is limited, and the dollar-Euro exchange rate is pretty pathetic these days." On the one hand, it makes me feel good busquing in my normal clothes; I'll not seem out of place. But sometimes it feels like everybody is an impostor. So, basically, I feel right at home here. Same as in the States. Come visit!