Our US furniture was unworthy of being shipped to Paris. I had to start over.
For the first time, I was able to shop slowly and chose things I liked instead of deciding which Ikea sofa went with our garage-sale end tables. I scoured flea markets and furniture stores. I consulted Parisians and expats. Our shipment of American household goods (books, pictures, one piano, one armchair, and one coffee table) arrived months after we got the apartment. Therefore, I didn’t feel truly at home for a long time. I still felt like we were in an Airbnb and somebody was going to tell us to get out. Now it’s just about finished, and feeling more like home.