For our fall issue, and on the heels of Paris Fashion Week and Highsnobiety’s Not In Paris activation, we asked a handful of writers and designers to give us a short essay –– or prose poem or something in between –– about something they found in Paris that changed them. Could be an article of clothing. Could be a phrase. Could be a meal. For Eileen Myles, it was language. For Arisa White, it was a dress. Natasha Stagg wrote about a perfect tee shirt. Ryota Iwai told us about a new tea routine. And Marine Serre described a bicycle. 

Though I’ve been staying at the same hotel in Paris for the past five years, it was only during my most recent trip, in January, that I noticed a small café literally a few seconds away. Far removed from the chaos of fashion week, this quaint, unassuming, and charming café quickly became a sanctuary. Besides the actual space, and the owners’ extremely cute dog, it was discovering the process and ritual of drinking tea there that left a mark on me. 

Paris, and Paris Fashion Week, represents to me a platform, a time of inspiration, but also a challenge. It’s in Paris that we are able to finally show what we have been working on for half a year. Yet in thinking of an object that I found in the city that changed me, I land on what helped remind me to take a step back, focus, and take it slow.  

I had always assumed Paris was more of a coffee city, but in the café near my hotel, I discovered there is a vibrant tea culture, too. The café even carried a selection of French ceramic artists’ work. And this leads to my most memorable object: a tea set made by a local artisan. 

Although this is quite new for me, and I am by no means an expert in tea, stumbling upon and bringing this tea set back to Tokyo has been monumental. Making white tea at home has helped me further appreciate taking things slow and putting in an effort to make the space to do so — especially with a lifestyle for which those chances are often too few and far between. 

 I admittedly am the type of person to easily get caught up and over-consumed in my work and the hectic schedule that comes with it. So having something like this tea set serves as a physical representation of the importance of taking time to relax and reflect. It is a reminder that a simple, quiet moment can completely change your mood.

I already set aside Saturday and Sunday mornings — to take in the day slowly by making and enjoying breakfast at home — but adding the process of making tea has created a ritual, a little extra treat, that is super beneficial for myself and my process. 

Ironically, this object I found in Paris during the most chaotic part of the year for us is ultimately a lesson in appreciating taking a step away from Paris, and all that it represents, in order to enjoy the quiet moments in between.