If you’re standing on a street corner in Paris, a neon green cross often glows outside a pharmacy nearby. Like Starbucks in many American cities, they’re everywhere, though not all part of the same chain. These dispensers of ibuprofen, prescription drugs, and oh-so-may elegant face creams don’t truck in candy bars or house cleaning supplies. Instead, they tend to be small, focused on health and body supplies and the staff wear white medical coats, ready to advise on small medical problems along with the differences among shampoos and sunscreens.
One pharmacy purchase I can get only in this city is a fairly medical-looking lip balm, Amilab, that goes on like buttah. However, I get the sense that a bunch of pharmacy revenue comes from fat-reduction elixirs advertised all over in store windows. Like this one, where she’s happily drinking something that looks like sewage. No wonder she’s losing weight.
The best pharmacy I’ve found, from an aesthetic perspective, is this one in the 11th. No green cross, but their entrance communicates everything necessary.
Location: Rue Vacquerie and Rue de la Roquette.
