Docks en Seine

While JAR (a.k.a. Joel Arthur Rosenthal) may have a shop—and that shop may be in Place Vendôme—there’s no point in swinging by unless he’s accepted your appointment. After all, there isn’t even a sign, much less regular hours. Making only 70-80 pieces per year, this reclusive designer and Harvard grad may have come from humble roots (he’s the child of a biology teacher and Bronx postal worker), but he’s made jewelry for some of the world’s most beautiful women. Those who can’t get an original (he won’t sell a piece to someone unless he’s convinced it’s a match), can always pick something up at auction: A 2006 Christie’s sale of Ellen Barkin’s JAR collection featured 17 pieces, including a 22.76-carat diamond ring that fetched more than 1.8 million.

This just might be the best bookstore in the world. It has the vibe of a warren-like country home rather than a straightforward shop. Books are piled haphazardly from floor to ceiling (many of which are in English), there are benches dotted here and there, and it's staffed mostly by college kids who are full of great recommendations. It’s also home to a rich literary history—over the years, Shakespeare and Company has played host to famous American writers like Allen Ginsberg, Ernest Hemingway, William Burroughs, and William Styron. Founder George Whitman (the shop is now run by his daughter, Sylvia) famously opened up the shop’s cozy benches and couches to artists and writers who needed a place to stay. Many of these drifting creatives—or tumbleweeds, as they became known—went on to become important literary figures in their own right.

There are very few boutiques that fully embody an aesthetic, but L’Eclaireur does this perfectly—no small feat, considering there are seven very distinct shops scattered around the city, as well as a bar/restaurant that doubles as a shrine to Piero Fornasetti. Armand and Martine Hadida’s original outpost in 1980 was incredibly important for a number of reasons, most notably because L’Eclaireur was the first to break brands like Prada, Helmut Lang, Dries van Noten, and Martin Margiela in France. While the Hadidas have had every opportunity to rest on their laurels, the pace has been relentless ever since as they’ve continued to ferret out the world’s best new talent, in fashion, in jewelry, and in home goods. While the mix at every spot varies, we like the moodily gothic Place des Victoires location best. Under the light cast by a strange and fantastic bird chandelier, you’ll find Fornasetti umbrella stands, chunky chain link bracelets from Mawi, cashmere travel wraps by Denis Colombe, and coated Saint Laurent skinny jeans. If time allows, their most recent project shouldn’t be missed, either: They’ve taken a space in Habitat 1964’s vintage village at Les Puces, where they’re selling a smattering of archival fashion pieces along with furniture. The first U.S. outpost recently opened in Los Angeles.

As seems to be the way in Paris, Pierre Hardy was many things before he was a shoe designer. Initially, the Parisian-born Hardy was a professional dancer. And then he was an illustrator for Vogue Hommes. And then he went to Christian Dior to design shoes, before moving on to Hermès. While he launched his own, iconic collection in 1999, he’s never stopped working for other brands. He’s still the creative director of Hermès’ fine jewelry, and he does men’s and women’s shoes for Balenciaga. His space in the Palais Royal is dark and gothic, which is a pretty epic backdrop for his day-glo shoes and cube-patterned clutches; his second location in the Palais Bourbon is equally (wonderfully) gloomy. There's another store located in the 1st.

Lined in lush blue velvet, stepping into Lydia Courteille feels a bit like stepping into a music box. It’s a fittingly dream-like backdrop for her handcrafted pieces which take a deep bow to fantasy. Fire opals are set in the maws of lizards, and diamond fireflies sit on carved coral flowers: All of her jewelry is stunningly unusual.

Artistic Director Gaia Repossi has transformed her family’s old-world institution—which is the official jeweler to the Royal Family of Monaco—into a relevant and modern brand. Ear cuffs, black diamond-studded earrings, rings that span two digits, and collaborations with designers like Alexander Wang may not be the normal provenance of a nearly-century old jewelry house, but the decidedly cool results justify the departure.

While its décor is colorful and eye-catching, the shoes and bags here skew more toward the understated. It’s an interesting mix of French and American brands with an eye toward lowkey luxe. Laurence Dacade boots mingle with K. Jacques and Ancient Greek Sandals, along with a handful of streamlined satchels from brands like Alexandre Mareuil and Cahu.

Lines like Masscob, The New Society, and Xirena set the tone here, which is equal parts girly and refined.

Now two locations strong, French Trotters pretty much epitomizes what a great boutique should be: Beyond a host of exclusive collaborations, their buyers manage to zero in on the best and most relevant items from the lines they stock. Everything, from the perfectly turned out Michel Vivien sandals to Jerome Dreyfuss totes, seems like an important wardrobe building block. Meanwhile, don’t miss the very well-priced house label.

Though Maison Bonnet is still relatively little-known, almost everyone has seen the house’s glasses. After all, this fourth-generation, Maitre d’Art-recognized, family-run business, which was officially established in 1950, has made some of the most iconic frames around. Yves Saint Laurent, Le Corbusier, Jackie Onassis, and Jacques Chirac were all clients. While you won’t be able to pick up a pair at your local optometrist’s office, you can visit their appointment-only Paris outpost, which actually just opened in 2009 (the company operates out of a workshop in Sens, Burgundy). There, a master craftsman will map your entire face, measuring three different angles of your nose, the gap between your temples, the overall structure of your skull, the shape and tenor of your cheekbones and eyes, etc. One pair of glasses requires three visits (the final two can be condensed, for those who are visiting), and while they’re revered for their work in tortoise shell, they do more affordable versions in horn and acetate as well.

Nothing Martin Margiela turns out is particularly basic, but thanks to a muted palette and exquisite tailoring, everything is supremely wearable. The Belgian designer’s boots are always classic (if cerebral), and his jewelry is pretty cool, too. MM6, Maison Martin Margiela’s more reasonably priced line, is located in Galeries Lafayette.

Francis Kurkdjian's nose may be responsible for some big blockbuster scents (he created Jean Paul Gaultier's Le Male at the beginning of his career—and then went on to do dozens more scents for pretty much every big fashion house around), but it's his special projects that we love best. He helped artist Sophie Calle bottle the smell of money in 2003, and in 2006 he re-created the scent of Marie Antoinette for an installation at Versailles. It's no surprise that at his namesake gallery-like boutiques in the 1st and 4th arrondissements, things are done a little differently: Perfumes are set against a wall of light, and the offerings go well beyond the traditional. His signature scents infuse everything from incense paper to leather bracelets to home sprays, and his now-famous traveling perfume case is on hand should you require a custom fragrance.

While officially part of Les Puces de Saint-Ouen, these two markets are distinct enough to stand on their own: Here's you'll find the more rarified antiques and easy proximity to the delicious restaurant Ma Cocette.

Though you'll likely recognize some of the big names here by their signature style, White Bird breaks new designers onto the scene, too. The vibe is low-key and unintimidating, making this a great resource for significant others who need some guidance and are in gift-buying mode.

Helmed by Audrey Halin and Marie Leonetti, two 30-somethings with an inarguably excellent knack for finding buried treasures, Bulle (which means Bubble in French) sells those treasures, reimagined. Whether it's a mid-century credenza that's been revitalized with a some cherry red paint, or a sturdy sideboard, inset with tiles, the pieces here don't feel retro or kitschy at all. They're fun and bright and wonderfully modern. There's also an in-house line of new pieces that are indistinguishable from their vintage peers (but obviously, not one of a kind).

So here's the deal: Sir Terence Conran's Habitat, which launched in England in 1964 with the sole premise of bringing affordable, useful, and beautiful everyday objects to the masses, pioneered the renovation of a massive former chandelier factory at Les Puces. And then they enlisted famed fashion retailer L'Eclaireur and a handful of venerable antiques dealers to join them in opening up shops. At Habitat, you'll find iconic vintage pieces from the company's past 40 years—all sourced from the staff and a general online appeal. If you're looking to unload a few Habitat pieces from years ago, you can likely sell them back here. Meanwhile, don't miss La Buvette in the complex, which traffics in cakes and excellent coffee.

With a palette of muted tones, and pieces that look like they belong in a sand-washed cabin on the beach, Caravane is a useful resource for unfussy linens—both for the bed and the table.

Flea market is a bit of a misnomer for Les Puces, which is inarguably the world’s most iconic: It’s a destination for antique and interiors lovers, and lined with the dealers that service them. You won’t find fledgling stalls—you’ll find full-on stores. In short: There’s no thrifting here, and very little that could be perceived as a bargain. The goods are gorgeous, though, and justify the high price tags.

Le Grand Salon, located at the Hôtel Particulier Montmartre, is designed to offer a respite from the craziness of the city. The classic French cuisine and seasonal cocktails can easily stand on their own, but you'll enjoy them even more if you sit in the property’s hidden garden. The weekend brunch is legendary, and the intimate bar, Le Très Particulier, is worth a visit.

With the style of a ’40s British lounge, this is the perfect respite after a morning haul through the Louvre. They have a great value prix-fixe menu, but we usually come for a snack, savored over an international paper on one of the library room’s overstuffed leather couches. Creaky wooden floors, a constant stream of jazz, and a well-heeled clientele make any pitstop here feel like a dignified affair.

Popular with locals and staff from the nearby galleries, this lively and unpretentious Provençal-centric restaurant offers a delicious range of entrées and desserts. If you opt for the latter, they make the most memorable and dangerously delectable chocolate mousse—which just so happens to be all-you-can-eat.

Named for their son, Ferdinand, owners Alicia and Jacques Fontanier decorated this tiny spot with artifacts and ephemera from his childhood. It’s a nice touch, as is the cheeseburger, which is known as one of Paris’s best. This spot is particularly big with a fashion crowd.

The bric-à-brac décor here is pretty irresistible, and it’s also the perfect backdrop for one of our favorite, out-of-the-way date night spots in Paris. The homestyle French cooking is as exuberant as the surroundings—and it’s topped off with excellent dessert.

Since the 1920’s, Caviar Kaspia has been offering a luxurious, old-world Russian experience—with a beautiful view of the Eglise de la Madeleine. Plush, and paneled in wood, there aren’t many surprises in the dining room: You’ll find top-shelf caviar, blinis, champagne, and loads of vodka. Be sure to call ahead for a table, as the restaurant no longer takes online reservations.

At 250 seats, this bustling, Phillipe Starck-designed restaurant has an industrial loft feel, which is actually a nice, modern antidote to the antique vendors in the surrounding flea. The food is feel-good French (ratatouille, green bean salad, steak frites), which is exactly what you want after a long morning of treasure-hunting at the Les Puces.

In Paris, charming little eateries are a dime a dozen, but this bistro is a true standout. Located just steps from the Musée d’Orsay on the left bank, it serves reasonably priced French fare (duck breast, eggplant, tarte tatin), excellent wine, all against a backdrop of a lipstick-red banquette and a caricature wall. This is a neighborhood spot that gets pretty packed with locals in the evenings, so don’t expect to run into too many tourists.

On summer nights, the crowds here spill out onto the streets; when winter’s chill descends, it’s one of the cozier spots in the Marais.

Situated on the quay of the Docks en Seine—also home to Paris's fashion institute—Wanderlust is a bit more than just a club/bar/restaurant. Though a small part of the enterprise lives indoors, it primarily resides on the sprawling outdoor terrace which overlooks the Seine. Exposed pipes, neon lights, live music (DJs, generally), and a stylish crowd are all hallmarks of this much-buzzed-about destination.

Leave it to the mind behind Twin Peaks and Blue Velvet to engineer Paris's most labyrinth-like club—in one of the city's most culturally significant buildings. Constructed in the late 19th century as a publishing press for France's leftist newspapers, Émile Zola printed "J'Accuse" there in 1898, and rumor has it that Molière might be buried in its hallowed ground. For its 2011 opening, David Lynch designed the entire, garret-like space himself, from the futuristic theater to the wood-block lined passageway to the '60s-style bar. Until midnight, it's a private club with screenings, talks, and private exhibits; after midnight, it's a full-on dance club with some of Europe's best DJs.

A wildly ornate bas-relief ceiling—moodily lit by Versailles-worthy chandeliers—is actually not the first indication that this isn't your average bar (that would be the gigantic birdcage at the entrance). Occupying the former mansion of composer Georges Bizet (hence the name, Carmen), this Pigalle club gets particularly busy around fashion week, when any number of designers host their after-parties here. While DJs play until 4 a.m. on weekends, the space hosts more-civilized affairs, too.

Smack in the middle of Paris’ Golden Triangle (Avenue Montaigne, the Champs-Élysées, and the Grand Palais), Martin Margiela—known and loved for his very specific and very conceptual spin on fashion—doesn’t immediately come to mind as a likely candidate for a hotel interior decorator. After all, his namesake boutiques tend to be impossible to find and packed with thrilling—though stark—design flourishes. But there’s nothing cold about Le Maison Champs-Elysée: It’s cool and other-worldly, but its architectural moments (neon signs, chairs draped to resemble ghosts, a rhomboid concierge desk) never compromise on comfort.

The Peninsula’s grand outpost in Paris delivers all the luxurious elegance we’ve come to expect from the brand. Housed in a 19th-century building perfectly suited to its style (it opened as a grand hotel back in 1908), the Peninsula is the kind of place where you can trust that no detail is spared. You’ll find enormous bouquets of fresh roses on every spare surface, an extremely attentive staff, and a guaranteed good night’s sleep in their beds. While the spa, bar, and main dining rooms are lovely, our favorite spot is the rooftop restaurant, which offers a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower.

This intimate maison—the former home of the Hermès family—has just five guest rooms, each one distinct: One has luxe bachelor pad vibes, done up in black marble and leopard print wallpaper; another is light and airy, with details that call in the lush, ivy-lined courtyards that surround the building. Speaking of: This place has one of the biggest and prettiest gardens of any Paris hotel, with gravel courtyards, lush ivy, and wrought iron bistro tables. Dedicate an evening to dinner in the loungey dining room, Le Grand Salon,, and drinks at the glowing, gilded bar, Le Très Particulier.

A hotel inspired by the residences of great nineteenth-century writers and thinkers like Alexandre Dumas—hence the Monte Cristo reference—seems fitting for the Left Bank location. (The neighborhood has long been considered the center of gravity for Parisian intellectuals.) Let's start at the bottom: the pool, surrounded by plants and blue tile, is pretty, intimate, and so necessary after a day spent pounding the cobblestones. And the same goes for the sauna. The guest rooms (go for the boudoir option) are quietly luxurious with rich navy carpets, beautiful frescoes behind the headboards, and the softest white sheets. Touches like tapestries, sumptuous textiles, and painted wallpaper articulate the communal areas and look a lot like the furnishings the Count of Monte Cristo himself might have encountered during his travels. In a city where everyone goes out, staying in for a swim, a steam, and a rum cocktail at the hotel bar is incredibly appealing. The breakfast spread is also worth mentioning. It's served at the bar, and the pastry situation rivals that of the best bakeries in the city.

When a handful of city cemeteries were closed in the 18th and 19th centuries because they were overflowing and posed a threat to public health, the bodies of more than six million Parisians were relocated to a former quarry below the city. What's even gnarlier is that bones and skulls were used to create its walls. You can tour the labrynth-like ossuary—and theoretically visit the remains of notables like Rabelais and Robespierre—but this is not for the claustrophic, and probably not for kids.

The Foundation Cartier pour l’Art Contemporain, situated in a Jean Nouvel-designed glass building and fronted by a soaring garden wall, houses an important—and growing—contemporary art collection. Don’t miss their Nomadic Nights, when the Foundation invites contemporary artists to host evenings of concerts, screenings, lectures, and performances.

Built on the collection of co-founder Henri Langlois—who, with the help of friends, managed to smuggle most of his compendium of films out of France before the German Occupation—the Cinématheque Francaise houses one of the largest movie archives in the world. Though it's had a peripatetic existence, it's now housed in a Frank Gehry-designed building. There are exhibitions along with daily screenings of classics (and a restaurant on the ground floor).

In a wildly compelling juxtaposition, this museum pairs electronic music and digital arts with the facade of an original 19th-century theatre. While the exhibitions are great, try to catch a concert here—and cap it off with a cocktail at the bar.

Best known for giving Damien Hirst his first solo show in 1991, Galerie Perrotin trailblazed in the Asian art market (they also gave Takashi Murakami his first exhibition outside of Japan). Over the intervening years, Galerie Perrotin's pace hasn't dwindled: They continue to launch up-and-coming artists from around the globe.

Chez Valentin may be small in size, but it's big on ambition: The contemporary artwork here always pushes the envelope in the most compelling way.

This is Chantal Crousel's second location, offering the same reliably excellent mix of emerging and established artists from the contemporary art scene: In the past, she's exhibited talents like Cindy Sherman, Jenny Holzer, Sophie Calle, and Richard Prince.

Opened in 2006 in a soaring space designed by Jean Nouvel, this is part museum and part research/education center. You'll see a compendious display of objects and art from African, Oceanic, Asian, and American cultures that truly appeals to all ages. We always make any trip here revolve around lunch in order to take a pitstop at Les Ombres on the 5th floor: It has great views of the Eiffel Tower.

This is officially part of Les Artes Décoratifs (the main museum occupies the Western wing of the Louvre), but this is a great opportunity to tour a former private home and see pieces in situ. Incredibly intricate rugs, needlepoint chairs, and gorgeous table settings. Built in 1911 by Comte Moïse de Camondo, a Sephardic jew whose family made its fortune in banking in the Ottoman Empire, the house was left to his son, Nissim, who was killed in World War I; Moïse established the home as a museum in his honor. Years later, Moïse's daughter, Béatrice, and her family were killed in Auschwitz.

The Musée des Arts Décoratifs, occupying the northwest wing of the Louvre, houses a massive collection of furniture, tapestries, ceramics, glassware, sculptures, paintings, and fashion dating from the 13th century to the present. If you’re into history and interior design, you’ll love it. But people really flock here for the temporary exhibitions, which often feature archival collections from iconic fashion houses like Dior, Dries Van Noten, and Iris van Herpen.

Thaddaeus Ropac opened his first gallery in Salzburg when he was only 23, followed by an outpost in Paris seven years later. He represents a host of international talents (including Anselm Keifer), and is known for ambitious exhibitions and plenty of guest star curators (including Sofia Coppola). Thaddaeus Ropac also opened a space in the Paris suburb of Pantin, which easily justifies a trip for collectors.

Paris's largest (and most historic) cemetery plays home to pretty much everyone you'd ever want to commune with after death: Marcel Proust, Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison, Georges-Pierre Seurat, Gertrude Stein, and Édith Piaf all rest here—plots are still available, but the waiting list is long.

Auguste Rodin donated his complete collection—including the pieces for which he's most famous like The Thinker and The Gates of Hell—to France so long as they promised to transform the very stately Hôtel Biron, which was his workshop from 1908 on, into a museum. There are thousands of his sculptures on-site, in both the museum's halls and scattered throughout the surrounding gardens, along with highlights from his personal art collection (Monet, Van Gogh, Renoir, and Camille Claudel—who was his mistress, his student, and a great sculptor in her own right).

While the work of photographers like Helmut Newton might hypothetically seem too stark and modern for this rambling and elegant 18th century mansion, it's a combination that totally works: Beyond an impressive permanent collection, this museum always lands the exhibitions everyone is talking about, whether it's Shirin Neshat, Henri Cartier-Bresson, or Sebastião Salgado. Keep in mind that they're closed on Mondays and Tuesdays.

It's rare to find a museum where you can see such a wide breadth of a single artist's work, but in this Marais manse (which dates back to the 1600s), you can see pieces from every period of Picasso's life. In addition, it also houses Picasso's personal art collection, which includes pieces from Cézanne, Rousseau, and Degas, as well as significant African art.

This boutique hotel is proof that affordable doesn’t necessarily mean scruffy and outdated. Though you won’t find all the creature comforts here, first-time hotelier Vanessa Scoffier has done wonders decorating with a mostly pastel palette, vintage finds, and an overall DIY/Scandi aesthetic. Added benefits, like the super thoughtful concierge service and fresh flowers, do go a long way.

Though it’s in the slightly far-flung 20th (which gets cooler every month), Mama Shelter wins big points for its reasonable prices. This burgeoning chainlet—with locations in Lisbon, Lyon, Marseille, and Bourdeaux—is a bit like the Ace Hotel family. The outposts attract a 20-something crowd by offering complimentary Wifi, free movies, and quirky design moments, like ceilings covered with chalkboard scrawl, Minnie Mouse nightlights, and an always-crowded bar.

At the bottom of Père-Lachaise, this sweet tavern serves a tight menu of tapas and Catalan wines. It’s worth crossing town for the lush and intimate cobblestone courtyard, where we see ourselves spending long summer afternoons eating grilled octopus and French-fry patatas bravas.

Old-school Aux Deux Amis gets shoulder-to-shoulder crowded, so make a reservation or be prepared to squeeze in at the bar to order natural wine and tapas with the masses. The menu changes regularly—expect it might be written by hand and only in French, in which case you can ask your server (or, if you’re at the bar, a new friend) to decipher.

The name “snack bar” is misleading; this cozy neighborhood spot is a full-blown natural wine bar with dim lighting and an excellent dinner menu, which changes frequently. Think mussels in harissa bouillon, crispy gochujang chicken wings, tomatoes in lemon caper sauce, and fresh spring asparagus, cooked perfectly.

While it's nearly impossible to get a reservation at Septime—and a bar stool at the wine bar is hard to come by, too—you’ll probably have better luck at the owners' venture, Clamato, a seafood-centric joint that doesn't take reservations. Also, it’s open all day on Saturday and Sunday, which is a rarity in Paris.

This little bistro is popular for good wine, a contemporary menu of well-executed small plates, and terrace seating that’s especially lovely on a summer evening. It draws lively and youngish crowd on weekends.

Furia’s tacos are solidly the best in Paris. There are just six on the menu—including shiitake al pastor, cauliflower tempura, slow-roasted pulled pork, or tuna and shoestring fries. All delicious, although the fresh corn tortillas might be the real highlight. Grab a seven-euro glass—or a 35-euro bottle—from the well-curated list of natural wines and finish the night off with an order of flan and ice cream. Furia doesn’t take reservations, and it gets packed; come early.

At this modern French bistro, you could get away with not looking at the menu at all. The servers are kind and make thoughtful recommendations: this tapa, this dessert, that natural wine. People come for the hot dogs on weekend lunches. Not joking—try one, and you’ll rethink hot dogs entirely. Make reservations; people come back week after week as the menu changes.

Bistrot Paul Bert is what any French restaurant ought to be: It features old-school, understated décor; simple but solid food at reasonable prices (including an excellent entrecôte); and brusque waiters. Don’t skip dessert, particularly the not-too-sweet tarte tatin.

The dining room might not look like all that much, but this is one of those restaurants that changes how people think about food. Chef Inaki Aizpitarte, a pioneer in Paris’s neo-bistro scene, deconstructs traditional French dishes and reassembles them in wildly inventive, globally influenced ways. Despite the kitchen fireworks, it never feels pretentious here, which is probably why locals and tourists alike line up out the door to get a table.

Filipino-Australian chef Hanz Gueco and his team reopened Le Cheval d’Or (which has been here forever) as a high-end fusion spot in 2023. It’s fun and experimental. The menu changes often, but you might find handmade tortellini with mapo ragu, black-vinegar chicken wings, or Sichuan-oil mussels. Natural and biodynamic wines dominate the beverage list, but there are some really good sakes, too.

Le Dauphin is immediately next door to its sister restaurant, Le Chateaubriand. Locals hover around the marbled bar (there are only a handful of tables) for well-priced—though complex—small plates and surprisingly affordable wine.

Parisian dining has a reputation for being a little stodgy at times, what with the ubiquitous gilded interiors and price fixe-only menu—but at Le Servan in the 11th, you’ll find neither. Instead, chef Tatiana Levha, and her sister, Katia, offer up a short but sweet a la carte menu of Asian-inspired classics that changes pretty much daily. As for decor, it’s all neutral, with a brass-top bar. Walk-ins fare well at lunch, but make a reservation for dinner.

If you commit to one luncheon in the 11th, make it Mokonuts. Husband and wife Moko Hirayama and Omar Koreitem serve Lebanese-leaning meals on ceramic dishes so gorgeous, you’ll be sorely tempted to slip one into your purse. This couple does it their own way—Hirayama’s past includes a stint as a lawyer (she used to work baking early morning macaroons at Ladurée before heading to the office), while Koreitem cut his culinary teeth at Daniel in New York City. Nothing at Mokonuts is predictable, not even the cookies: Chocolate chips are traded for fennel, almond, and pickled lemon; coconut is paired with black pepper. Savory dishes are hyperseasonal, and the flavors are out of this world, with many of the spices and ingredients imported from Lebanon: tuna crudo with chermoula; blistered cauliflower smothered in secret sauces; and an exceptionally good artichoke dish. But come early—Mokonuts shutters in the late afternoon, so Hirayama and Koreitem can pick their kids up from school and cook dinner for the family. As we said, they do it their way.

This is a true trattoria in the middle of Paris, with great platters of antipasti, thin-crust pizzas, and surprisingly big bowls of house-made pasta (definitely not the skimpy starter size—these are mains). The interior immediately suggests a good time with long electric-blue leather benches running the length of the walls, offset by yellow table mats on quintessentially Parisian round tables. Expect a tight squeeze: This place is perpetually packed with locals downing glasses of sparkling Lambrusco and rounding off with a few bites of the sublime tiramisu.

The chefs behind Septime seem to understand that you can’t fail when you start with the best fresh ingredients. This isn’t to say that the cool, pared-back space isn’t innovative—it just isn’t flashy.

Vantre is what Frenchie was 15 years ago. Chef Iacopo Chomel and sommelier Marco Pelletier met at Le Bristol's Epicure (after runs at Le Clarence and Le Taillevent, respectively), but despite their fine dining backgrounds, Vantre is relaxed and unpretentious. There are just a handful of seats, and the place is only open for lunch and dinner Monday through Friday. You might notice the crowd is full of chefs from other restaurants, who gather here to split a bottle of wine over lunch. Speaking of: At lunch, opt for the set menu, which goes for just 26 euros for an entrée, plat, and dessert, and get whatever bottle the sommelier tells you to.

As far as we know, Folderol is the first of its kind: a natural wine bar slash ice cream shop. You order at the counter—there’s always a line—to get a glass of whatever the sommelier recommends and a scoop off the ice cream menu, which changes daily. Kids are welcome.

This restaurant, bar, and nightclub—in an iconic rotunda built by Claude Nicolas Ledoux, the father of Neoclassical architecture—is also smack in the middle of one of the main alternative drags in Paris. Young Parisians flock here for dinner under the cupola and drinks all day in the verdant and colorful terrace garden right on the Place Stalingrad. When it gets late, you can always head back indoors to the Mini Club for some French disco.

The young team behind this growing concept came up with the genius idea of opening bars in disused spaces all over Paris—on rooftops, at the old Pavillon at the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, and on a houseboat parked on the Seine. Le Perchoir Ménilmontant, located right on top of a large industrial building might just be their greatest conquest to date: In addition to an incredible view and the trademark cocktails, you'll find snacks by their on-site restaurant.

This spot is named for the nineteenth-century painter Rosa Bonheur, the first woman to become an officer of the Legion of Honour, whose paintings of horses and cows grace the walls of the Louvre and New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art. While Bonheur used the then-wilds of the Bois de Boulogne to find animals to paint, this Rosa Bonheur is situated in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, a beautiful garden in the 19th. The emphasis here is on day-drinking, really, though it gets overly packed as the night wears on. It serves great appetizers, plus it's laid-back, unpretentious, and kid-friendly. Should you stay past 10 p.m., expect to follow the crowd onto the dance floor.

While you can take your low-sulfite wine to go at this former shoe repair shop, you can also grab a seat at the bar and snack while you drink: Sausages, anchovies, and cheese all get the Septime treatment here.

This shop specializes in handmade linens from Bologna. You’ll find stacks of tablecloths and napkins, rows of colorful throw pillows, and beds made up with their super-soft sheets and blankets. Plus a curated selection of baskets, ceramics, drinking glasses, flatware, and furniture. If you don’t know what you’re looking for, it’s a great place to browse. And if you do, it’s an even better place to order a custom set of table linens, curtains, what have you. Even more, Borgo's Italian Bistrot, located inside of the store, is a great place to see the Borgo Delle Tovaglie products in action while enjoying pasta dishes.

If you’re looking for small gifts or plastic-free home goods, you’ll find them at Landline. The boutique is carefully laid out, with tables and cubbies full of kitchen ceramics, simple wooden children’s toys, and anything else you might find at a chic general store. It feels distinctly Californian (and still oh-so-Paris).

Occupying an old-world, village-like square, this market near the Bastille bustles with locals stocking up on their weekly groceries. When you need to catch your breath, head to Le Baron Rouge, a great wine bar just around the corner.

A planetarium, an aquarium, a submarine, an IMAX theatre? Check and check. The museum covers everything from microbiology to outer space, and the learning is interactive. Plan to spend the whole day here, as it's huge (and fascinating), but avoid the weekends which get annoyingly crowded.

Sited on a former industrial wasteland (the Parc de la Villette had served as a slaughterhouse since the 19th century until its rehabilitation in the '70s), this expansive cultural venue is the perfect marriage of old and new. Many of the original buildings—including the veterinarian hospital—are now exhibition halls, and 10 themed gardens, many of which are devoted to kids, dot the landscape. All-in, the Parc de la Villette now houses the Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie, three major concert venues, and the Conservatoire de Paris.

Opened in 1864, the Parc des Butte Chaumont was actually a giant public works project: It's called after Chauve-mont, which means bleak hill, because before its makeover, it was actually a dump (as well as a site where they displayed the bodies of hanged criminals). After years of terracing, planting, and construction (everything, from the man-made lake to the cliffs, was molded into shape), the park opened to huge crowds. Beyond just being a lovely place to pass the day (particularly when it's spent drinking wine at Rosa Bonheur), the grotto, waterfalls, and Temple de la Sibylle are big draws—along with a bridge designed by Gustave Eiffel.

At 2,500 acres (about three times the size of NYC's Central Park) the Bois de Vincennes was ample enough to act as the royal hunting grounds in the 13th and 14th centuries, and serve as the site of most of the events during the 1900 Summer Olympics. 17 years later, Dutch spy Mata Hari would be executed in the park's fortress. But we digress: The Bois de Vincenne's Parc Floral de Paris is one of four botanical gardens in the city, home to 3,000 types of plant (including 650 varieties of Iris). There are peacocks, there's a bonsai garden, and there's an annual jazz festival in the park's amphitheater that draws big crowds.

This is one of those spots that doesn't feel like it could possibly be in a bustling city: Faced with a flowering courtyard, stone walls, and a glass ceiling, La Maison Dr. Hauschka is oh-so-quiet. Fitting really, because the facials and massages are relaxing enough to knock anyone out. Their signature facial, developed by Dr. Hauschka co-founder Elisabeth Sigmund, is two hours of pure bliss—deep cleansing, layers of masks, compresses, and incredibly effective skin care.

Plagued by stomach pains, Marine “Mirz” Parmentier found relief in yoga and became obsessed, leaving her communications job to train in India. She founded Mirz Yoga, where you can take Hatha, Pranayama, and R&B Yoga classes designed for all levels, including prenatal and children.