Buying Stuff
Paris is a commodity fetisher's dream, and you can buy stuff anywhere. If you're shopping for particular things, though, certain areas of town are better than others.
For example, inexpensive youth-oriented clothes and shoes are
concentrated on and around the boulevard St. 
Michel
in the Latin Quarter. Leather jackets, especially during the sales
season, can be especially good deals. (Sale season, by the way, is
officially—really!—the month of July, when everything is marked down,
often drastically, to clear space for the fall lineups; look for the
word soldes plastered in giant letters everywhere.) Regarding
shoes, however, be forewarned: French shoes are unreasonably
expensive, so no matter where you look for shoes they'll no doubt seem
more expensive than they should be. Some of the larger stores like Eram
have a decent selection at reasonable prices, but if you're looking
for something uniquely French, you're going to pay for it.
You want luxury items? Head for the Place Vendôme
and the Avenue Montaigne. (Metro Tuileries or
Pyramides for Place Vendôme; Franklin-Roosevelt for Avenue Montaigne.)
Expensive. Really. Just shopping for clothes and personal items in
general? Well, you have to know about the grands magasins,
the big department stores (grands magasins) in the 9th
arrondissement. Galeries
Lafayette, at 40 boulevard Haussmann, and Printemps,
at 64 boulevard Haussman, will keep you busy for days (both are at
metro Havre-Caumartin).
These are giant stores, several buildings
each, and they're jammed with merchandise and customers. The sidewalks
in front of them are crammed with passers-by and with salespeople
demonstrating odd or unusual kitchen products, somewhat reminiscent of
what you'd see at a county fair. These are the places for some of the
latest fashions at more reasonable prices than you'll find at the
designer shops (although they're still not cheap).
(By
the way, did you know that you've never had a cup of hot chocolate?
You haven't, unless you've had the hot chocolate "l'Africain"
(accompanied by some pastries) at the insanely good Angelina (there are several locations in Paris, but my favorite is on the Rue du Bac, not far from the Musée d'Orsay). I don't know
how to describe the stuff: it's the most chocolaty liquid I've ever
encountered
(and I've encountered more than my share…), and it's got a
density and a luscious thickness that are impossible to fathom. You
can order it by the pitcher, and truth be told, that's not enough. I
wish I could figure out how they make this stuff.)
La Samaritaine, at 9, rue de la Monnaie in the 1st (metro Pont Neuf) is worth a visit. This bohemoth of a department store is a tribute to elegance. It was founded in 1870, and in some ways it's the grande dame of Paris shopping. Before it closed for safety reasons in 2005 people knew it for its focus on luxury brands and for its rooftop restaurant. The store changed hands and was renovated, opening up again in 2021. In its current configuration it's more than a store—definitely worth checking out.
There's also the Bon Marché. "Bon Marché" means cheap, which this place isn't. It's at 24, rue de Sèvres, metro Sèvres-Babylone. This place has all your upscale items under one roof, it's way less crowded and frantic than the grands magasins, and if anything just a little more chic. I've seen celebrities here, actually. Once you're in this area, you can head over to two other good shopping districts: Saint Germain/Saint Sulpice, and Rennes (just walk down the little rue Saint Placide to the rue de Vaugirard and the rue de Rennes).
Sale season is the month of July, when much is marked down drastically. Look for the word 'soldes' plastered in giant letters everywhere.
My favorite areas just to shop around are the rue de Rennes and the
surrounding streets, and the area around the Place St. Sulpice (where, by the way, one of the grandes dames of French cinema lives, but
I won't tell you who or in which building—just keep your eye out). Saint
Sulpice is also the church that figures prominently in The Davinci
Code, but it's worth seeing anyway.
At right you see people watching the sun—that bright circle on the floor, which is focused there from a lens in a stain-glassed window—approach a division on the floor, which it will touch on the equinox. The marquis de Sade was
baptized there, as was the best poet in the world, Charles Baudelaire.
There's a strange and unusual Egyptian obelisk in the church. Go
inside—really—and you'll be glad you did.
A lot of people are intimidated about looking at or—gasp!!—trying on clothes in Parisian boutiques. Well, don't be. Well, wait—be, but learn how not to be. Although this is less the case than it used to be, a lot of salespeople in clothing stores (and I'm not really talking about the big department stores here) can still be a little high pressure. So what? There's a little drama that might play out, and as long as you play the role you're supposed to play, instead of the one a pushy salesperson might want you to play, you're fine. They'll want you to feel bad for trying something on and not buying it. If some wise acre tries to pull this on you, you trump them by acting offended that he or she would even think of selling you something
of such inferior quality, and that you're lucky to have noticed, at just the last minute the defects the merchandise sports. Always maintain the moral high ground if someone tries to pull this crap on you (although it's unlikely). The bottom line here: don't be afraid to try things on even in the smallest, trendiest boutique. Just be armed (and now you are) with all the cultural weaponry required.
If you want to buy wine or other sorts of spirits and you have no idea what you're doing, go to a specialty shop. The big chain is called Nicolas, and they're all over, but you might also want to go to a mom and pop variety. These people know what they're talking about, and won't try to pressure you to make you buy things that are more expensive and out of your league. There are especially nice and helpful ones on the Ile St. Louis, right in the middle of the rue St. Louis en l'Île, and another at 13, rue Buci in the 6th, both of which are in areas you might find yourself walking around in anyway. You'll also find high-end wine shops all over the city, and generally speaking the staff are extremely knowledgeable and very patient (and not at all hard-sell).
Now this is only for some of you, but if you're of those who believe
that chocolate is a near sacred substance that should be prized as
much as platinum—that is, if you have
an ounce of sense in your head—then run over right now to Debauve
et Gallais at 30, Rue des Saints-Pères in the 7th
arrondissement (but almost the 6th: 01 45 48 54 67, metro
Saint-Germain des Prés or Sèvres-Babylone). You will swoon as you
enter the storefront (which is classified as a historical monument),
and you will become drunk with chocolate lust as you contemplate the
displays laid out before you. This establishment has been around since
1800, when Sulpice Debauve, who had been pharmacist to Louis XVI
(guess that didn't work out so well) not far from the current
location. You can buy a ton or a single piece. I once asked them for
the richest piece they had and they gave me a bite-sized piece that
was so dense I actually couldn't finish it.
Grocery stores aren't anywhere near as big or as numerous as they are in the U.S. Look for Franprix, Carrefour, or Monoprix, chains of supermarchés (but the really big ones are called hypermarchés, which makes me conjure up a very amusing image). Most of these stores are somewhat cramped and impersonal, and you're pretty much on your own. You'll have to bag your own groceries—and, indeed, bring your own bags—but you'll find whatever you want here (including spirits). Virtually every neighborhood has its neighborhood smaller stores, and there are still mom and pop grocers as well. Don't forget your local charecuterie and boulangerie, however, especially if you're nearr a market street. If you're a food snob and you want really fine foods, check out Fauchon on the Place Madeleine (metro Madeleine). You'll find all sorts of wild things here (including peanut butter!), and the staff is attentive and knowledgeable. I once worked at a comparable establishment (Hédiard) in the sixteenth arrondissement (but sadly it's no longer there, and there's not even a plaque commemorating my service on that spot), and I was very attentive and knowledgeable, and a model for salespeople everywhere.
BTW, since I just mentioned it, if you want something gift-wrapped, you tell the salesperson that it's "pour offrir" (literally, "to offer" which seems to imply to Tom that the person upon whom you bestow the offer might reject it).
Like to shop around for junk, in search of that amazing find—whether a Persian rug, a Renaissance-era dining table, or a vintage 1950's ashtray? Then you have to see the marché aux puces de Saint-Ouen. A marché aux puces is a flea market, and this one's absolutely huge, with an absolutely enormous variety of stuff. Take the metro out to Porte de Clignancourt and follow the crowd down the street. Then browse something live 2000 different booths, some indoor, some outside. The market is open Saturday, Sunday and Monday, from early morning until late afternoon-early evening. This thing has been around for over 100 years, and you might be put off at first by the throngs of people there, but it's worth it to see all this stuff. (Do watch your wallet or bag, though; this place has some operators.) There are also some pretty decent restaurants and cafés in the area surrounding the market (mostly to the north and east), so you can even make a day of it—but only on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, from 10:30 until 6:00.
Bookstores
Tom is a book junky, so he had to devote a special section of this page to bookstores. There are bookstores all over the city, of course, but Tom thought he’d show you areas where you will find concentrations of bookstores; and where you will find particularly interesting book stores. There are two words you need to know regarding bookstores in France: A librairie generally sells new books (and despite the resemblance to the English word “library,” it’s a book store); and a bouquiniste generally sells used books.
Les bouqinistes are booksellers who have these dark green stalls built in along the walls looking over the Seine on both sides of the river, mainly toward the center of the city. Different bouquinites open their stalls on different days and at different times. In addition to books, many of them carry old art prints, and sometimes corny souvenirs. There’s nothing more relaxing than strolling along, stopping at each or selected stalls to see what they may have. Don’t expect to find a hidden first edition of Hemingway or something; these folks are smart and they know what they have. But it’s really fun to peruse their wares. Tom has bought many a book this way. For some reason he likes checking out what the bouquinistes have on a crisp fall day.
Regarding formal bookstores, Tom’s readers know that the Latin Quarter is home to universities and students. Thus, it won’t surprise anyone to learn that this is a good area to while away some time leafing through old, new, surprising, esoteric, and just plain interesting books. The yellow pins on the map below indicate some very good bookstores, and you can zoom in to see exactly what and where they are (the ones on the Rue Dante, for example, are mostly comics and manga). One can easily make an afternoon or early evening of checking out several of these stores, and the area is punctuated with enough cafés that you can pick up a new book and settle down with a cup of coffee or lunch to check it out.
Tom wants to call out a few of these for being especially worth a visit, in no particular order. The Abbey Bookshop, 29 rue de la Parcheminerie, is, I believe, owned and run by a Canadian, so he speaks English and is very nice and helpful. The shop is charming and it looks as though it might be inhabited by gnomes, and it's likely Tom's favorite English bookstore in Paris. One of the biggest publishing outfits in France is L'Harmattan, and it owns the Librairie des Savoirs—Sciences Humaines; and the Librairie Internationale, at numbers 21 and 16 (respectively) rue des Ecoles. Nearly side by side are Le Livre Penseur and Présence Africaine, at 23 and 25 bis rue des Ecoles. On the Boulevard Saint-Michel is the gigantic, all-purpose Gibert Joseph at number 26; and of course the old stand-by, Shakespeare and Company at 37 rue de la Bûcherie.
Some of my favorite bookstores outside of this neighborhood are these: Music and books galore inhabit the FNAC (and no one in the world knows what that stands for, by the way), and there are two principal locations: in the sickening Forum des Halles (metro Les Halles), where you have to go underground on this scary and too long escalator ride which is made even worse by the wan and destitute looks on the faces of the people opposite you coming back up, making you wonder why you ever embarked on this journey in the first place; and at 136 rue de Rennes, not far from the tour Montparnasse (metro Montparnasse-Bienvenue or Saint-Placide). Although the latter store is more attractive and more pleasant to shop in, alas! the former store seems to have a wider selection. They have tons of books on every conceivable subject (and they're especially good on travel, comic books [bandes dessinées], philosophy, literature, and art), and they have a significant selection of books in English. 
The music section is a dream come true, and the music is laid out by category in a way that actually makes sense, and each department ("électronique," "variétés françaises‚" etc.) has a little info desk where you can inquire about a particular CD or DVD, and the folks who work there know everything and are actually always ready to help you. Another favorite, over near the Bastille, is La Manœuvre, at 58, rue de la Roquette (metro Bastille). It's got a terrific selection of books (mostly in French, with some English), and the space is terrific and invites serious browsing. The staff are friendly and unusually knowledgeable. Tom's Guide readers will likely also appreciate L'écume des pages, located at 174, blvd Saint-Germain (metro Saint-Germain-des-Prés). This place has some serious literature, history, criticism, and other genres, but it also has good kids' books, travel, and other quotidian subject matters. The selection of books in English is good. The largest bookstore for English-language books (if perhaps not the most interesting) is Smith and Sons, 248 rue de Rivoli (1st). Taschen, at 2, rue de Buci, is a marvelous photography and art bookstore, and they do good author events. The premier LGBTQ+ bookstore in Paris would be Les Mots à la bouche, at 37, rue Saint-Ambroise (11th). This store used to be right in the middle of the Marais, but it moved to this address, apparently because of ever-increasing rents in its former neighborhood.
And as a final side note about buying stuff in Paris, there used to be—and as far as I can tell it's gone—at least one vending machine for buying... blue jeans. It was the weirdest thing I ever saw, and it was this big sucker right in the middle of the giant Auber RER station. It was bigger than a photomaton (those booths you can get your picture taken in), and you'd stand inside it, pull this sort of cord thing around your waist to determine your size, insert your credit card, and out would come a pair of blue jeans. I couldn't ever figure this out: was this in case you accidentally left the house without wearing any pants?