My ambition during my study-abroad trip to Paris was to be mistaken dans la rue not for the Midwestern American tourist that I really am but instead as a bona fide French girl. Hence, I left my favorite University of Iowa sweatshirt at home and strutted the streets of Paris sans tennis shoes and fanny pack opting instead for the requisite muted color palette, ballet flats, and versatile stretch knits comme les femmes Parisiennes.

But what really are the trademarks of a quintessential French wardrobe?

An obvious difference between the American fashionable and our trans-Atlantic counterparts is that of accoutrements. Whereas an American woman owns an obscene number of nearly-identical black three-inch heels to match an obscene number of nearly-identical little black dresses, a Parisian woman owns exactly one little black dress (in fact, Paris’ own Givenchy invented said little black dress for Audrey Hebpurn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s) and exactly one pair of black shoes to match—and most likely the French woman’s shoes are flats. No three-inch toe-crunching masochistic heels for a French woman when a perfectly versatile pair of leather ballet flats offers day-to-evening flexibility, quintessential Parisian elegance, and (dare I say it?) comfort—a word no stylish New Yorker would offer in tandem with fashion. A French woman never sacrifices comfort for la mode, and, in fact, that which is most fashionable is also that which is most functional; when it comes to minimal and sensible chic, Paris women reign supreme.

Thankfully minimal and sensible fashion has reached its zenith stateside as well. Right now is by all ostensible accounts the height of comfort fashion. Peruse any metropolitan American city and one will surely find the cotton knit tops, stretch black leggings, ballet flats, newsboy caps, casually-strewn neck scarves, and basic color palettes of blacks/blues/grays/whites/and reds modeled by fashionable flâneurs. And, in many ways, this current trend of comfort fashion in the U.S. is a French import.

Of course, in the vernacular of fashionistas, the term “comfort fashion” is a bit too quotidian to be uttered aloud, and so, to appease the sensibilities of the euphemistically-inclined, I offer the phrase “minimal chic.” This “minimal chic” currently in vogue is easier to obtain (and to afford) than the très luxe obsession of the eighties or the Carrie Bradshaw/Patricia Field mania of the late nineties, and the French have long championed this minimum aesthetic.

Because of their old devotion to minimal chic, Parisians have a slew of stores catering to each of the current must-have fashions. My favorite of the lot is Christera (19 Blvd. Sabastopol) in the Beaubourg district. This affordable women’s (and men’s) clothier offers an expansive inventory of basic cotton knits, well-tailored wool jackets, stylish contemporary bijoux, and perfectly-cut denim jeans all at reasonable price points. The hallmark of Christera is its affordability paired by its ever-revolving wide selection updated nearly weekly.

To find the requisite black leggings, choose one of Paris’ nine Wolford boutiques specializing in hosiery, bodywear, and knitted styles in merino wool and viscose. Here is where Parisian women stock up on all of their essential undergarments. I purchased a pair of perfectly stretched black leggings from the Wolford in the seventh (32 rue de Bourgogne), located directly across from my French pied-à-terre. These Austrian-based chain boutiques can be found throughout Europe and North America, but the French propensity toward fine fabrics, classic undergarments, and luxury hosiery makes Wolford a popular Parisian shopping destination.

Another bien-connu French boutique is that of Petit Bateau, which boasts fifteen shops in Paris proper and 165 more (and counting) worldwide. Petit Bateau caters to comfort fixations and specializes in children’s knits and comfortable women’s tee-shirts. American fashion girls know to stock up on these while in Paris as the same tee-shirt in the U.S. runs almost double the price in France—exchange rate included. These are so affordable in Paris that I still had pieces to spare after I wiped the Marais Petit Bateau (36 rue sévigné) out of its taille 18 white tee-shirt supply.

Finally, the Longchamp Le Pliage collection is one of my favorite fashion discoveries in a long time. Coming in a wide variety of colors and sizes, Le Pliage literally means “bending” in French—an apt title for this lightweight, foldable and packable nylon bag. For my day-to-day operations in Paris, I especially appreciated the new messenger bag Le Pliage (couleur: beige) which was just large enough to transport all of my pedestrian necessities (i.e., umbrella, wallet, notepad, pen, French phrasebook, Chanel Vamp Crème red lipstick, and Metro Carte Orange). Observe the vast majority of French women riding the Metro, grocery shopping at Fauchon, or strolling the Jardin des Tuilleries, and you will notice the ubiquitous Longchamp Pliage bag.

Of course the finishing touch to any French wardrobe is le parfum. Between Annick Goutal, l’Artisan Parfumeur, or the oh-so-popular Guerlain, it is virtually impossible not to discover a unique signature French perfume to define your Parisian adventures. As for me, I opted for l’Artisan’s Jour de Fête with its unique blend of almond, wheat, and vanilla. After getting dressed in all of my newly acquired vêtements, one spray of my eau de toilette and I’m ready to promenade myself down the streets of Paris. And the ultimate compliment? I lost count of how many times I was mistaken for a real Parisienne. Et voila…je suis prêt.