Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 35 People rely on clothes
Lionel glanced at his old coat and old shoes, didn't argue, and simply turned and left the apartment building.

In this era, in every country, people wear their social class on their clothes; there is no such thing as being "low-key."

The Haussmann Building was generally inhabited by middle-class, wealthy middle-class, and newly arrived small businessmen and nobles, so they naturally had to be wary of the shabby-looking Lionel.

Even though the apartment building had an "Apartments for Rent" ad in the newspaper, not everyone could use that as a reason to enter the building.

But Lionel has his own "unspeakable secret"—at least at this stage, he doesn't want his classmates to know that he has made a small fortune, since it's difficult to explain the source of the money right now.

The reason for choosing the ninth district is that it is separated from the fifth district, where the Sorbonne is located, by the first, second, third, and fourth districts. Moreover, it is not the sixth or seventh district, where college students like to gather and have fun, so there are not many opportunities to run into acquaintances.

But after thinking about it, since I was going to live in the "Osman Building," wearing this outfit would only make me more conspicuous. I might as well get new clothes, and I could just change into my old clothes every time I went to class at the Sorbonne.

Since the Ninth District had an opera house, it was naturally an area where actors and writers gathered. There were also many clothing stores, and the ground floors of many apartment buildings were lined with shops, not much different from the ground floor shops of later generations.

Lionel wandered around the opera house and finally found a "Dousse tailor shop" whose signboard was not decorated with gold trim or aristocratic ornaments. He touched the 200 francs in cash he had prepared in his pocket and strode in.

Fifteen minutes later, Lionel emerged again in his original attire, followed by the tailor shop assistant's polite "Welcome back next time."

Because the original owner of this body didn't buy even a new vest during her two years in Paris, the current Lionel has no concept of Parisian fashion prices.

The clerk at "Düsseldorf Tailor Shop" wasn't snobbish at all; instead, he enthusiastically explained the prices of full-body suits that aligned with "middle-class aesthetics."

A mid-length wool coat with a lapel, 80 francs; a slim-fitting single-breasted wool coat, 40 francs; a double-breasted vest, 20 francs; a shirt, also 20 francs; a pair of slim-fitting trousers, currently popular among university students, 30 francs; a pair of genuine leather shoes, 30 francs.

The total came to 220 francs, and Lionel didn't have enough cash in his pocket—and that was just the price of the basic model. If you wanted something customized, you'd have to pay extra, like adding a hidden pocket to the coat for 3 francs.

In addition, there are essential accessories: scarf, hat, cane, gloves...

In short, if you want to appear as a respectable business manager, engineer, or a moderately famous writer or actor, you simply can't do it without 300 francs.

This once again taught Lionel the terrible meaning of the "Paris tax" that the French spoke of; 300 francs was enough for him to live in Mrs. Martin's apartment for a whole year.

Lionel simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

Fortunately, the "thoughtful" shop assistant secretly slipped him a business card, telling him to go to a secondhand clothing store on "St. Anthony Street" where he could find the clothes he needed.

An hour later, Lionel changed into a "new outfit" for 120 francs.

A dark blue wool short coat, well-tailored with natural shoulder lines, slightly worn at the cuffs and collar, but clean and shiny after washing; underneath was a beige shirt with old-fashioned buttons from the Second Empire era, and slight wrinkles on the chest, like pages turning in the wind.

He wore a navy blue fine-striped wool vest, buttoned up neatly; his trousers were made of gray-green twill fabric with clean lines, with only slight chafing at the knees, but after ironing, they were almost invisible.
He wore a pair of black leather shoes, not new, but polished to a shine, with some slight creases on the surface.

He didn't choose gloves or a cane, but only a round felt hat, so as not to look too old-fashioned. The owner of "Second Life Clothing" told Lionel that the coat, vest and trousers in this outfit came from a fallen nobleman, so the workmanship was excellent, and he just helped to remove the family crests.

Lionel, of course, didn't believe this explanation, but he was still quite satisfied with the outfit.

The shop owner cleaned it very well, with no odor or suspicious stains. It's a high-quality secondhand outfit. The key is that wearing this to school won't be as conspicuous as wearing brand new clothes. A few bored classmates will probably just make a few sarcastic remarks.

Dressed impeccably, Lionel once again arrived at his apartment building at 12 Rue Antand, next to the Paris Opera.

This time, he only briefly explained his purpose, and the doorman turned to the side and bowed slightly: "Welcome, sir. The manager is on the left side of the lobby on the first floor. I hope I can serve you again in the future!"

His tone was devout, as if he had never met Lionel before—even though he had just turned Lionel away from the door two hours earlier.

Lionel was already used to it, and nodded without any reaction, then went straight to the building manager to ask to see the apartment.

The administrator was an old man with a full head of white hair and sharp eyes. He had a huge mustache that covered his mouth completely, and he spoke in a muffled manner, as if he had a mouthful of water in his mouth.

He looked Lionel up and down: "In our house, the second floor is the most expensive, and the fifth floor is the cheapest. Which floor would you like to see, sir?"

Since elevators are not yet common in Parisian buildings, the most expensive floors in most residential buildings are the second floor, which has the highest ceilings and projecting balconies surrounded by iron railings.

The rent decreases from the second floor upwards. On the sixth floor, there are servants' rooms and single loft rooms, which are usually rented by maids or students. Even so, it costs 40 to 50 francs per month.

Lionel briefly explained his acceptable rent and living needs. After a moment's thought, the manager led Lionel straight up to the fifth floor, took the key ring from his waist, and opened the door to an apartment.

"This apartment has two bedrooms, a small study, a kitchen, a living room, and a flush toilet. And here—" the manager said, opening the window of the inner balcony.

Lionel went to the window and saw the golden dome of the opera house gleaming in the mist not far away.

"The floors of this apartment have just been waxed, and all the furniture is new... The rent is 90 francs per month, plus an additional 5 francs per month for water."

If you require meals included, room service is available for 80 francs per month; dining together in the restaurant on the first floor is available for 50 francs per month.

After the manager's rambling introduction, Lionel looked around the apartment and was quite satisfied with it. Although it was on a high floor, the price was cheaper than he had in mind, and it was conveniently located, had new furniture, and even included gas lamps so he didn't have to buy any extra.

Considering the average rent of the "Housman Building" in the 9th arrondissement, the manager did not give a random price. After thinking for a moment, he decided to rent it first. After paying a deposit of 40 francs, Lionel signed a one-year lease agreement.

Stepping out of the building, looking at his clothes and then back at the towering apartment building, he felt for the first time that fate was quietly beginning to take a turn.

(End of this chapter)