Fondation Cartier pour l’Art Contemporain

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.

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).

Home to Paris's fashion institute, this rehabbed 1907 warehouse on the Seine—marked by an undulating lime green glass roof—also plays host to exhibition spaces and a handful of boutiques (many of which sell student work). The real draw, though, is the bar/club/rooftop restaurant called Wanderlust on the quay level. It occupies an outdoor terrace where you can catch an open-air screening or just sit in the sun.

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.

In the Latin Quarter, right between Boulevard Saint-Germain and the Seine, Hôtel Dame des Arts is a contemporary gem in a very old part of town. Guest rooms may not be incredibly spacious—this is Paris, after all—but they make good use of their limited square footage, and large windows keep the space from feeling cramped. That said, it’s worth shelling out for a premium room or a suite, some of which come with balconies or private terraces. At the downstairs restaurant, which has a pretty courtyard garden, chef Othoniel Alvarez Castańeda pulls off Mexican-French-Asian fusion. And the rooftop bar is an especially cool place to hang out for sunset drinks; it’s a rare place in Paris with a 360-degree view, and you should soak it in for as long as possible. The teensy spa has just one treatment room (for massages, exclusively) and a sauna, but the fitness room (also small) is visually stunning enough to carve out time for, even if your schedule’s packed.

Hôtel des Grands Voyageurs occupies a middle ground that’s increasingly hard to come by in Paris: It’s well-designed and the service is solid, but it’s not true luxury, and the price point matches. The guest rooms run on the small side, but they are quite pretty, done up in a palette of cream, chestnut, pistachio, and slate blue—vaguely nautical, as are a few other details. The downstairs bar is a highlight: Poppy is inspired by the clandestine energy of speakeasies and opium dens, with good cocktails and better DJ sets. You might take advantage of the small gym and sauna downstairs, too.

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.

Taking up half a city block, this is a hotel with history. During WWI, Russians fleeing the revolution stayed here. During WWII, occupying forces took the place over—and over the following years, concentration camp survivors, their families, and at one point, even Charles de Gaulle lived here. James Joyce played piano in the bar, and Antoine de Saint-Éxupery was a regular. Suffice to say, Lutetia has acted as a refuge for people throughout the last century. Designers went heavy on the marble and, on the upper floors, a dark eucalyptus wood. The basement now features an exquisite spa and swimming pool (a rarity in Paris). The brasserie and the bar are beloved by Left Bank residents, with many treating the facilities as extensions of their own homes. On any given night, there is no better seat in Paris than at Bar Josephine.

Over the years, we’ve built a lot of wonderful memories here, in part because this is the sort of unpretentious and unfussy hotel that focuses on comfort rather than flash. While it’s fronted by an old-world, Beaux Arts exterior, the rooms are chic and modern.

Above the boutique of artisan tie-maker Cinabre, this hotel consists of only two guest apartments, both beautifully and expertly decorated: upholstery by Pierre Frey, beds by Hästens, linens by Bergan Delorme, tableware by Cristal de Paris, and dressing gowns, slippers, silk scarves, and stationary by Cinabre itself. Plus: in-room massages, excellent room-service breakfast, knowledgeable concierge service, meticulously curated vinyl collections—there’s a vintage turntable in each room—and access to the exclusive and prestigious squash club Club du Jeu de Paume de Paris.

Having “The smallest five-star hotel in Paris” for a tagline is pretty attractive, especially to the guest who prefers an under-the-radar, bespoke experience. With only twenty rooms and one of our favorite, hammam-style subterranean pools hidden beneath the building (for guests only), L’Hotel nails the bohemian vibe of the Left Bank. Guest rooms are what could be described as “intimate”, but the décor is so beautiful that you forget the square footage. With rich brocade wallpaper that looks like patterned velvet, antique furnishings, soft lamps, and supremely comfortable beds, no two rooms are the same. Book into the Oscar Wilde suite (the hotel’s most famous visitor was actually staying on the premises when he died) for the bathroom alone. The yellow and green tiles, emerald marble tub, and mahogany wall panels make a nightly bath mandatory, while the antique writing desk and private terrace ooze old-world allure.

Tucked away in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, this eternally cool brasserie mixes classic French and Asian-inspired dishes, like black truffle croque-monsieur, sea bream carpaccio, grilled filet, and the juiciest cheeseburger ever. Old leather cushion banquettes and marble countertops contrast with chic black-floral wallpaper; it’s both cozy and romantic.

If you’d like to experience classic Parisian bistro food—escargot, duck à l’orange, cordon bleu, foie gras, eggs mayonnaise, frog legs, and more—dodge the tourist traps near the Eiffel Tower and aim straight for Paul Chêne. The food here is excellent and the service is personal and warm. (Often, the owner Harold Chêne will serve you himself.) Don’t skip the orange cognac liqueur, which they make in house based on an old family recipe. The restaurant only has a handful of tables, and they always book out; make reservations by phone and well in advance.

Travelers missing their sushi fix usually slink over to Blueberry on night three in Paris, when the capacity to consume another plate of steak-frites is officially no more. Purists be warned: The maki are on the innovative side, imbued with tropical, citrusy flavors like mango and yuzu (trust us: These rolls are next-level good). The atmosphere is more disco than serene. Whitewashed stone walls are illuminated electric blue and neon pink, while dozens of low-hanging lamps dispel any notions of a romantic dinner. Come at lunch for value, but dinnertime is when the ambiance reaches a celebratory fever pitch, when the lighting is most dramatic. Somehow, those perfect, umami-rich mouthfuls just taste better after dark.

This classic Parisian Art Deco café on the corner of Boulevard Saint-Germain has played host to everyone from Sartre to Picasso. They came for coffee and people-watching, and so should you: When the weather’s nice, find a spot on the outdoor patio and get a big café crème. (Or swing by just to see the place: The food's just okay, and the crowd inside made up of tourists exclusively, but the institution itself is pretty iconic.)

Unpretentious and laid-back, this is the sort of restaurant that’s the perfect reprieve after a few days of big, loud brasseries. The food is simple but well-prepared and nicely affordable, too.

Paris is not a brunch place, which means that this cheery, wood-beam lined spot is aggressively slammed on weekends. Go during the week: While they offer every conceivable iteration of egg dish, we like the Coco Meurette best. It features poached eggs submerged in a dreamy red wine and mushroom sauce.

Chez Dumonet has been serving up classic bistro fare for decades, in a dining room that dates back over a century (to 1880 to be exact). Its Belle Epoque vibe is totally charming, made even better by the clientele: You can be assured that everyone in the dining room is likely a grandparent a few times over. Keep in mind that Chez Dumonet offers many half orders, which is key if you’re not staying in a spot that can accommodate leftovers (portions tend to be generous).

Yves Camdeborde was so busy at his popular Left Bank restaurant, Le Comptoir, that he opted to accommodate the overflow by opening a tiny bar à vin next door. Though it’s standing room only, which is quite common in Paris, the delicious Béarnais-style small plates are worth tempting discomfort. We promise it’s a pleasant experience.

In a city filled with good, classic restaurants, it's hard to narrow it down to a few favorites, but Le Fontaine de Mars is one of those old-world bistros that constantly draws you back in. Once inside, no one would blame you for thinking that nothing has changed in a hundred years—and maybe it hasn't: Pink tablecloths, mirrored walls, and retro floor tiles abound. Keep your order to the tried-and-true classics, good steak-frites or coq au vin with a large glass of red is the way to go here.

La Closerie is in the same league as historic cafés like Les Deux Magots and La Palette. And while some might say this Montparnasse standby is past its prime, many insist it’s still very much happening—after all, Hemingway (there’s a handy sign indicating his preferred spot at the bar), Picasso, and Beckett used to hang out here all the time. We recommend springing for a full dinner in the formal main hall. But the brasserie-slash-piano-bar is great for a drink and to get a feel of the place without spending a fortune.

La Laiterie (translation: the dairy, which is what this tiny spot used to be), is located in a section of the Left Bank that’s particularly popular with tourists—the Musée Rodin and Musée d’Orsay are both within walking distance. Though the staff here will happily explain the dishes (leek soup, poached eggs, steak with new potatoes) in near-perfect english to out-of-towners, a good portion of the patrons are locals, which really speaks volumes for the pared-down, comfort-food-centric menu.

This café looks straight out of central casting: The large main room, complete with mirrored walls and dotted with paintings, is almost always packed. Despite the area's popularity with tourists, La Palette still feels undiscovered, as it’s predominantly peopled by locals.

It’s casual and cozy here, which is the perfect backdrop for the rural French food on offer. We come for the delicious roast chicken on Sundays; since most restaurants are closed, it can get quite busy, but in a low-key convivial way. Ask for a table by the window overlooking the Seine.

Power lunchers from the publishing and political worlds tend to pack out the black booths at this discreet, hard-to-find spot (it’s pricey, so an expense account helps). They come for the fresh seafood, and the fact that 21 feels more like a private club than a restaurant.

If you find yourself with time alone, grab one of the single-occupancy tables outside, which face onto the small square; that said, if you’re saddled with the little ones, this spot is blessedly kid-friendly, too. A bottle of red and the boeuf bourguignon—served with lemon rind, pasta, and pine nuts—is the meal to get here.

Fresh and wonderful seafood—served in a dining room that feels like the captain's dining room in a ship—justifies the haul to this slightly out of the way institution. The preparations here are blessedly simple and unflashy, which further underlines the consistently excellent quality of their catch.

The décor of La Petit Lutetia is that of a classic Paris bistro, with charming mirrored walls, monogrammed dishes, haphazard stacks of newspapers, and too-small tables. While the food is certainly good, you’re here for the people-watching, an endless parade of beautifully outfitted Parisians ducking out for cigarettes between courses and drinking seemingly endless glasses of red wine like water.

You know exactly what to expect at this, kitschy, family-owned establishment and that is the best steak frites in town topped with buttery, herby “secret” sauce. That’s it, and it’s worth lining up for at this is a no-reservations locale. Touristy though it may be, it remains a local’s mainstay, too, as proof of its great quality.

Situated right on the river, you can opt to take a seat in the front café for lighter fare (coffees, drinks, and classic sandwiches), or in the back, where they serve full meals. We love the grapefruit and avocado salad, but we particularly love the excellent people watching at lunch.

The only thing that outshines Les Cocottes’ brilliant use of glass jars and Staub cast-iron cocottes is the menu itself. The restaurant offers a robust offering of salads, soups, and mains that satisfy without breaking the bank. Consider making a reservation because there’s almost always a wait—which isn’t bad, as it’s conveniently located near the Champ de Mars and the Eiffel Tower.

Café culture is one of the many institutions that make Paris such a pleasure to visit. An hour spent sitting outside with a café au lait and a croissant watching the Parisians pass by is time well spent. Les Deux Magots in the heart of Saint-Germain has been one of the preferred literary and creative spots forever, with regulars including Picasso and Hemingway. The menu touches the greatest hits; the croque-madame is especially good, but honestly, a coffee or—hell, you’re on vacation—a glass of champagne outside under the canopy is the way to go.

Little Miss Geisha is inspired by Kyoto’s machiyas—traditional wooden townhouses—and while you can get a full lunch, dinner, or Sunday brunch here, we’d argue it’s best for an unhurried afternoon tea. The menu might be simpler than at proper mealtime, but the vibe is more leisurely, which makes up for the restaurant’s slow service. And you can spill out into the Jardin du Luxembourg for a stroll when you’re done.

Classic and inventive dishes get the two Michelin star treatment at the hands of Landes-born and fourth generation chef Hélène Darroze. With additional restaurants in London and Marrakesh, the menu has a global touch with deeply local roots: Darroze uses area providers, and bases her dishes on what’s seasonally appropriate. Her quiet and restrained approach can be felt in the room’s decor as well, which is hushed and elegant.

Ojii pulls off unforgettable Japanese fine dining in a slinky, ‘70s-inspired boîte. They do white-tablecloth in a sexy way, and it’s great for date night: Spend the night eating caviar tuna nigiri and sipping sake cocktails made with sobacha, yuzu, or plum wine.

Tucked away down a flight of stairs, this cave-like find offers an excellent omakase experience with two menus to choose from. They specialize in kushiagué, which basically means that they specialize in delicious ingredients grilled on sticks, each one prepared differently.

Basque fine dining restaurant Sugaar is one of the buzziest reservations in Paris, and the candlelit space is equally suited for intimate date nights or fancy gatherings with friends. Start with a round of martinis and fatty tuna pinxos before diving into white asparagus, charcoal-cooked fish, and sheep’s cheese tarts.

Freddy’s is in the top five most-visited bar à vins of our Paris-resident friends. The rustic stone walls, pretty chevron floors, artfully arranged bundles of wildflowers in old glass bottles, the museum-quality ceramics you eat off, the casual stools you perch on—it’s intoxicating and feels as Paris as Paris can be. To guarantee a seat, come with one other person, or better yet, come alone with your thoughts for company and the surrounding crowd for entertainment. The selection by the glass is seriously impressive (it’s no surprise the owner, Juan, is also the proprietor of wine shop extraordinaire La Dernière Goutte, around the corner) and the small bites are just what you want to nibble on with a glass of red.

Literally packed to the rafters with cheese, this is one of those tiny little spots you'll smell before you see. Owner Nicole Barthélemy and her team of cheese mongers will always let you sample before you buy—though the recommendations tend to be so spot-on, you arguably won't have to test many. For whatever reason, they don't tolerate photos in the shop—should you whip out your camera, you'll get scolded.

This cozy little Spanish shop and restaurant serves up great tapas and solid selection of Spanish wine, but their real specialty is the store’s namesake charcuterie. Jamón Ibérico de Bellota, which comes from acorn-finished hogs, is the crème de la crème of cured meats. Their gift baskets, with include a few different varieties, make great gifts for fellow foodies.

When you step into this specialty tea boutique, the first thing you notice is how good it smells. Follow your nose: Sniff whole-flower teas in stone goblets, open the bulk jars and take a whiff, and pull out the pretty drawers in the wall, which hold teas with names like jardins suspendus (“hanging gardens”). You can’t sample the teas on site, but the shopkeeper will help you pick something to take home.

This lablike Left Bank coffee house is owned by two pals (one Australian, one French)—and it offers so much more than standard espresso. Like so many Parisian cafés, this one has an indoor/outdoor seating situation making it a people-watching paradise. But you can actually get some work done, too—the interior is soothing, the Wi-Fi is free, and tables are roomy enough to spread out. You can also grab a quick breakfast or soup-and-salad lunch.

Stalks of bamboo dangle from the ceiling like hundreds of wind-chimes at this Saint-Germain-des-Prés spot, which is the first outpost outside of Japan for the historic, 19th-century teahouse, Jugetsedo. Upstairs, you can sample any number of green tees, from earthy Sencha, to nutty Genmaicha, to creamy Macha. In the cellar-like basement, you can participate in a full, uber-traditional tea service.

Styled to look like a 1950s classroom, Georges Marques’s shop offers hundreds of candies sourced from all over France. It’s kind of an amazing way to take a geography lesson, really, particularly because Georges is happy to lead willing students on a tour of the country’s various candy-producing zones. Everything—from the candied fruits to pastilles to calissons to chocolate—is arranged in old-fashioned apothecary jars.

Complete with cobblestone streets, a bubbling fountain, stands full of fresh flowers, and heaps of fresh bread, cheese, and charcuterie, Marché Monge is pretty much the quintessential Parisian market. Jardin des Plantes is only a few blocks away, so it's a great pit stop before an afternoon of picnicking.

With more than 150 stalls, this is one of the largest open-air markets in Europe, and one any food lover will not want to miss. Beyond fresh veggies, fruits, eggs, and cheese, there are plenty of vendors who sell premade meals, perfect for an impromptu picnic. It happens three times a week.

With the Eiffel Tower as a stunning backdrop, this market focuses on produce and fresh seafood. There are also stands for escargots, meat, eggs, and a smattering of home goods.

This mini-chainlet is now five Paris locations strong (with an outpost in London), which makes a lot of sense: The bread really is distinguishably excellent, which in a place like Paris, says a lot. Though the sourdough loaves fly off the shelves, we love their nut breads—along with the fact that you can purchase by the half or quarter loaf if you can't take down the entire thing.

With few exceptions, almost everything that lines the Crayola-colored shelves here rings in at under a hundred euros, whether it's backpacks, patterned wallets, or unique candles.

Aurélie Bidermann is cool, a fact that's readily apparent in the design of her bright, turquoise-tile-accented shop. You'll find her entire line—including plenty of the braided cord bracelets for which she's now famous—plus horn necklaces, painted enamel earrings shaped like leaves, and tasseled pendants.

The husband-and-wife team behind revamped cosmetics line Buly added a couple degrees of fantasy when furnishing their flagship shop—modeled after a nineteenth-century apothecary—with Tuscan tiled floors, Italian marble counters, intricately carved wooden cupboards, and prettily painted beams. And then there are the products: alcohol-free scents and modern, paraben-free formulations, beautifully packaged in old-fashioned vials and glass jars. Whether you’re in the market or not, this shop is a treat just to look at.

goodJo’s collection of vintage luxury fashion is eclectic in the best way (you might find beautifully constructed Saint Laurent blazers in colorful prints and silk Escada blouses with exquisite details). If you don’t see what you’re looking for, ask; their collection is expansive and only so much fits in the store at a time.

Inconceivable as it may sound, we like Hermès’ Left Bank outpost even more than the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré original. Occupying a 1935 Art Deco landmark, which at one time was a swimming pool (the mosaic tile floor remains), this location is a complete brand departure. Archways made from undulating latticed wood reach toward the skylights, and the displays are spare. Beyond the usual suspects of scarves, ties, watches, and saddlery, the space includes an in-house café as well.

Isabel Marant has done a pretty amazing job of building a slavishly devoted fan base: It's partly because her clothes used to be nearly impossible to find unless you bought a ticket to Paris, and partly because she nails a bohemian-meets-modern aesthetic that always just works.

Invariably, when you see an Isabel Marant, you'll see an outpost of Jerome Dreyfuss. Not only is there a subtly shared aesthetic, but Jerome and Isabel are married. For the most part, the bags here are perfectly slouchy, and the shoes are kind of exactly what you want for a low-key weekend in the city.

From cofounder Jeanne Signoles comes this must-have bag brand—done in canvas, and with a utilitarian, slightly nautical aesthetic. It’s hard not to fall for the simplicity of the concept: Choose the color for the bag, trims, and handles and add your initials in Futura. Stop by the sleek space to specify your bag, suitcase, tote, or pencil case.

Though it's often (mistakenly) credited as being the first department store, there's no doubt that Le Bon Marché's founders, Aristide and Marguerite Boucicaut, were pioneers, particularly in a culture that so adamantly prizes specialty stores. Launched in 1838 as an extension of the Boucicaut's single market stall, it became a fixed-price department store in 1850 (before that, you would barter), moving into its sweeping, Art Deco home in 1867. While it's been expanded several times since (and now belongs to LVMH), it's still inarguably one of the most beautiful, large-scale shops in existence. Whether you're looking for Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Maje, or Iro, it's likely here: Along with lingerie, kids clothing, furniture, household essentials, and shoes and bags. The food hall, La Grande Épicerie, is pretty insane, offering a rich array of specialty products, from Fauchon macarons to Baltic smoked fish. Many visitors concentrate their buying power here in order to hit the spending level required for VAT.

A bookshop and antiquarian for over a century, Librairie Alain Brieux specializes in rare scientific and sometimes esoteric titles, though the real allure is its cabinet-of-curiosities vibe. The windows and interior displays are continually refreshed with weird and wonderful assortments of vintage anatomical models, glass eyes, unusual toys, and the like.

Lace-trimmed shirts, pointelle peasant blouses, and delicate floral prints are signature tricks of the eponymous line here. They do it really well.

Wander into antique dealer Michele Aragon’s eponymous shop, and you might walk out with a pair of Provencal bubbled-glass cups, a full set of handmade tableware, or a sofa fashioned from kilim rugs.

Started by three brothers (whose family made its fortune from French brand, Comptoir des Cotonniers), this brand splashed out across Paris aggressively and loudly. Their ad campaigns—of stylish couples who both look, and dress alike—are a good reflection of the subtly tough and subtly unisex wares here. Leather bomber jackets, graphic t-shirts, and streamlined sweaters are all part of the mix.

In 1634, grocer and wax merchant Claude Trudon opened a store on Rue St. Honoré—and Trudon has been lighting the city’s palaces and homes ever since. Thanks to their superlative wax and rigorous candle-making process, the scented pillars burn for hours—without ever sputtering or smoking. They’re not cheap—after all, as company lore would have it, Napoleon’s only gift to his newborn son was a Trudon candle encrusted with three pieces of gold—but they are exquisite. The Paris boutique, complete with a rainbow wall of tapers, busts cast in wax, and the full expression of fragrances, shouldn’t be missed.

One of the prettiest and most popular parks in Paris still feels fairly local. Less traversed by tourists than the Tuileries and with more to do, the Jardin du Luxembourg is where you’ll catch Parisians soaking up the sun in front of the palace, playing chess at public tables, hitting balls on the tennis courts, and challenging one another to lively games of pétanque. And this park really shines when it comes to occupying little kids: Children can sail model boats in the fountains, watch shows at the puppet theatre, or ride donkeys on the vintage carousel. The park sits on the border of the Latin quarter and Saint-Germain—both worth a walk through, but if you have to pick, you should prioritize the latter.

There’s only one real reason to visit Paris’s only skyscraper: The view from the top, which is arguably better than the view from the Eiffel Tower. (From Montparnasse, you can actually see the Eiffel Tower—and you don’t see Montparnasse.)

Sited in the former Gare d'Orsay, a soaring, glass-ceilinged Beaux-Arts railway station built in the late 19th-century, the permanent collection here spans from neoclassicism to art nouveau. The big draw, though, is the museum's deep collection of impressionist and post-impressionist art, which includes works by Monet, Manet, Renoir, Degas, Van Gogh, Seurat, and more.

Modeled after the Pantheon in Rome, this giant mausoleum houses the remains of some of Paris's most famous citizens: Victor Hugo, Voltaire, Jean Monnet, Marie and Pierre Curie, Emile Zola, and as of 2002, Alexandre Dumas. And it was under the central dome that Léon Foucault constructed his pendulum to demonstrate the rotation of the earth (the original now lives in the Musée des Arts et Métiers). In 2007, Jacques Chirac dedicated a plaque in The Pantheon to the thousands of French citizens who harbored Jews during the German occupation, protecting them from concentration camp internment.

If you’re lucky enough to land an in-person appointment with face massage specialist Jeanne Casimir, you’ll leave with visibly lifted and invigorated skin. Casimir takes up residency at the Bon Marché for a week at a time, and she makes house calls. If you can’t meet her IRL, enroll in her self-massage class, which takes place online.

Located in a quiet, sun-kissed courtyard, Rasa Yoga is wonderfully unintimidating—even if you don't speak a lick of French. It offers a comprehensive calendar of styles and levels, along with a deep roster of spa treatments from all around the world.

Yoga, Gyrotonic, Reformer Pilates, and Xtend Barre all under one roof make Studio Rituel a popular wellness destination. And the location, a stone’s throw from the Luxembourg Gardens, doesn’t hurt. The Gyrotonic classes, which involve fluid movement and targeted stretches utilizing the seven natural elements of spinal movement, are particularly helpful if you plan to do a lot of walking. As the class ramps up, these stretches are more like a dance, and over time they dramatically increase your flexibility. The studio also offers holistic treatments like massage and reflexology.