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"So the other day, in anticipation for the onset of fashion week&amp;amp;#8212;during which time I usually have the worst possible hair&amp;amp;#8212;I went to Leonor Greyl to get re-blonded. (Apologies, Girls in the Beauty Department, for dipping my toe into your well-planted garden for a moment.) Usually during fashion week I manage to be on my fourth month without highlights, looking yellowy, and unkempt right when I&amp;amp;#8217;m supposed to be representing the magazine, as opposed to being Freelancer Shut-In lady. Never again, I told myself, and headed over to LG, a classic Parisian in-spot for hair treatments, cuts and color. Some of you may know cult LG products like the Huile de Palme or the Masque Fleurs de Jasmin (an deep conditioner that will make your hair smell so strongly of jasmine you might want to skip the perfume). But for all LG&amp;amp;#8217;s upper-crust profile, its one salon outpost happens to be one of the least chic-looking places I&amp;amp;#8217;ve seen. (Cracked peach-colored vinyl chairs, desperately needs a paint job.) I think this makes it all the better when, say, Emanuelle Alt (Paris Vogue&amp;amp;#8217;s fashion director and a client) pops in for a blowout. I sort of love a place that doesn&amp;amp;#8217;t really bother with the d&amp;amp;eacutecor, so confident is it in its underlying worth. It has reason to be. Anyway, this is all by way of introducing LG&amp;amp;#8217;s neighbor, and another French institution worth knowing about: Saint James, they of the classic, striped, boat-neck t-shirt that screams &amp;amp;#8220;I&amp;amp;#8217;M FRENCH!&amp;amp;#8221; as loudly as a baguette under the arm or a beleaguered-looking pout. There are some French fashion hallmarks that are BS. Berets, for instance. They may have been all over the place in the 1940s but I have not once seen a French person in one. Then there are French clich&amp;amp;eacutes that are completely true, like Saint James. Founded in the late 19th century to serve deep-sea divers in Normandy (yes, once upon a time a striped wool sweater counted as scuba gear), the company has moved on to do lots of other knits. But the traditional striped t is still the mainstay. They are durable, comfortable and most importantly, the real deal. When I was computer-less and working out of Glamour&amp;amp;#8217;s Paris outpost, one of the construction workers handling the office renovations rocked one while on the job. Seeing heritage-heavy stuff like middle-aged, un-trendy French people wearing Saint James makes me miss the better hallmarks of my home country: cowboy boots, giant Navajo belt buckles, destroyed flannel shirts. The rest of the world has adopted the other American classics: Ray-Ban aviators, Levi&amp;amp;#8217;s, Converse All-Stars. But only in America do I see that other stuff. And since it&amp;amp;#8217;s now been almost a year since I&amp;amp;#8217;ve been back to the US of A, I REALLY MISS IT. What else screams &amp;amp;#8220;American Classic&amp;amp;#8221; to you? Do you guys appreciate the incredible impact on fashion that America has had? Before the shows get started here in Paris, I&amp;amp;#8217;d love to spend a moment wallowing in the greatness of les yanquis. &amp;amp;#8212;Alex"^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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