The Swelle Life

HAPPY NEW YEAR! FIREWORKS FROM LONDON

Click to view the show on BBC

This is the spectacular display that is surely responsible for hundreds of small animals in and around London having heart attacks last night. Every New Year's Eve the BBC presents this world-class fireworks show put on by the City of London which you can watch by clicking the image. If you want to skip past the audience chat and get right to it - I highly recommend doing this - forward to about the 3:00 mark for the countdown.

Happy New Year! I for one am looking forward to a 2012 that bears no resemblance whatsoever to the last half of 2011. Onward we go!

 

Floral Friday! Niagara-on-the-Lake's Blooming High Street

A restaurant I can't remember the name of that is beautiful with so-so food (so I've heard)

Following my afternoon tea at the Prince of Wales Hotel in Niagara-in-the-Lake with my awesome friend Bridget (she is lovely but that word is getting played), I took some photos of their very pretty, very floral, very English high street named Queen Street, of course. (A funny fact - we noticed that they don't really age the Queen on notes in England, she's completely smooth in her 80s and we all know she didn't take the Joan Rivers route. So we showed a friend here a Canadian bill which shows her appropriately craggy face, and he had a good laugh at the extreme difference.)

           
   
  

 

 

A very pretty Sunflower umbrella displayed outside the shop

Photos © The Swelle Life

The Last Days of Summer (horrible words, please don't kill me)

Well, these are the last bits of my summer, hopefully you still have some left to enjoy. We've returned from our six weeks in Canada and so the next 10 days will be spent trying to become normal again (I know, good luck eh?), the jetlag is pretty nasty. And then it's back to school for Baby Swelle, the indisputable sign that the fun is over.

After the Butterfly Convervatory and afternoon tea at the Prince of Wales Hotel, here are the rest of the snapshots (minus flowers, those are for tomorrow's Floral Friday) from my Canadian summer. The header photo is at my aunt Linda's pool which comes in very handy on those days where it's so hot that you break a sweat checking for the mail. They repainted the pool house the most awesome shade of pool blue which they should never, ever change.

Niagara-on-the-Lake's Shaw Festival for English period plays

This is the Romance House. No, it's not the most charming brothel you've ever seen but the commercial home of local artist Tricia Romance. She once lived in the King St. dollhouse (doesn't it look like a giant dollhouse?) with her family, but after people caught on she opted for a little more privacy and moved to the outskirts of Niagara-on-the-Lake. It would take some real creepiness to get me to leave that house, but then maybe her new house was even neater.

I love that no opportunity was spared in making the most of the pinky-beige and that fantastic greenish slate shade -  notice the contrasting detail and painted edges all over. You just don't see this kind of attention to detail with colour all that often, and when you do it's usually weird. (There's a house in my neighbourhood that looks like Rainbow Brite threw up all over it.) And it's impeccably maintained, it looks brand new every time I see it.

 

And lastly, we have the Port Dalhousie carousel. Borrowing from my first post on this three years ago (in which I investigated why a grown man would take a ride on it):  The carousel was handcarved between 1898 and 1905 in Brooklyn, New York, this Charles Looff original was first an amusement at Hanlan's Point in Scarborough, Toronto. It found its current St. Catharines home on Lake Ontario way back in 1921, and still functions using the original organ - complete with twirling dancing girls - which was restored in 1985 thanks to Lottario funds. It boasts 68 animals and  many of the horses tails still sport real horse hair (cool or gross, depending). The nostalgic sentiments are reflected in the teenage carousel operators' uniform of a blue newsboy cap and shorts with red suspenders over a white, short-sleeved dress shirt (you know that a little piece of them dies every time they get dressed for work but it's a nice touch). To top it all off, it's still only 5 cents a ride. Imagine! You can take the family down to Port Dalhousie with a loonie and ride until all your butts are aching!

 

If you drink the Lake Ontario water, this horse will start talking to you.

Pink skies in Niagara-on-the-Lake, just before a big thunderstorm threw it down

Photos © The Swelle Life

Versailles Series: Le Théâtre de la Reine

Last week we saw Marie Antoinette's wee bedroom (I just read that this was indeed her original bed) and that was the last view from inside the Petite Trianon. Walking outside, I had no idea which way to go. I stared into a small marsh trying to see one of the bullfrogs loudly croaking and did. And off in the distance was the Temple of Love filled with people, in the middle of nothing (I think, maybe I would have seen something had I gone out there).

I saw pathways in at least half a dozen directions and didn't know which one to take, I didn't want to miss anything. I hate maps and the one for Marie Antoinette's domain was so busy I didn't even bother to check it. In case you haven't figured it out, I'm not one to plan a route, I'd rather just go and see what happens. (When I was much younger I drove, or rather 'fled' to New York City once with a friend and stupidly refused to look into just how I would get to Manhattan where we had arranged to stay with her friend (who was an assistant photographer to Annie Leibovitz at the time. I wonder what she's doing now). I wound up in the Bronx talking to a gas station attendant through a drawer. Well, I talked and he didn't. You couldn't even see the guy, he was behind opaque black bullet proof glass with duct tape all over it and I knew I had to get back in the car and out of there fast. So I  followed a police car into a sketchy apartment complex for help getting out and they thought that was suspicious - it was 3 a.m. - so the two officers got out of their cars and walked over to talk to us. They saw my Ontario plates and one asked in his thick New York accent 'Ontario's beautiful  - whaddya doin' here?' I explained and they gave us directions, and as they were walking away they stopped to talk, looked back at us and came back over. The one said 'Hey, can you do us a favour? Our friend over there (pointing to another police car parked at the side of the building) is sleepin'. Can you bang on his window and scare 'em?' I said 'No thank you, I don't want to get shot in the face'. We arrived at the place in Manhattan soon after and I've never been happier to be in a stranger's tiny, weird-smelling apartment. I no longer 'just see what happens' in those situations.)

Back to Versailles. Here's the rear view of the Petite Trianon:
  

You can see one of the paths on the left:

Then I found myself in a garden of manicured hedges and those neat rectangular trees that look like tree lollies: 
 

When I walked out I found myself in front of a building. I didn't know it (remember I don't look at maps) but I was entering the Théâtre de la Reine, or the Queen's Theatre, and what a surprise!

 

I'm going to quote what the Chateau de Versailles website tells us about this small, breathtaking theatre, le Théâtre de la Reine:

Richard Mique’s work, architect of Marie-Antoinette

While the Opera of Versailles was a theatre of court, the small room at Trianon was a theatre of society, as many existed then in residences in the countryside where, to pass the time, the owners and their guests would put together plays or operas. During her childhood in Vienna, Marie-Antoinette had gotten used to these familiar performances. She wanted to do the same with her close relations, princes of the royal family and some rare friends.

In 1780, on the orders of Marie-Antoinette, Richard Mique built this theatre whose severe exterior contrasts with the refined interior which, through its harmonies of blue, white and gold, recalls the opera of Versailles, only smaller since it has a capacity of only a hundred people: the domestic service on the floor and the guests on the first floor behind the boxes with grids. But the greatest luxury is not in the wooded room painted in a false, veined white marble and adorned with sculptures made of pasteboard, it lies in the machinery used for the scenery changes, which was fortunately preserved. On the stage of Trianon, plays by authors who were fashionable at the time, such as Sedaine and Rousseau, were acted out and entire operas were sung, and everyone agreed that the Queen was very good.

The view from the foyer of the theatre

 

To see the previous posts in the Versailles Series click here!

Photos © The Swelle Life

Versailles Series: Marie Antoinette's Petite Chambre

I've been dying to get back to my tour of Versailles! We're back on track now with Marie Antoinette's bedroom. I know what you're thinking, "This can't be it." Well, this was just one, her bedroom in the Petite Trianon, her private chateau (which really was private - husband Louis had to ask permission to enter, not that he really cared to).

It's very modest in contrast to its salons, though surely better than anything we have, but still very small (which is why the angles in the photos are short):

Either she was incredibly petite or she liked to sleep in the fetal position. I don't think she had a choice here!

The reflection in the mirror looks odd due to my crude eradicating of the tourists (yes, I know I am one, too, we're all guilty of ruining each other's photos) 

Marie Antoinette's other 'throne'

Now I found this a bit odd. As you stand in the doorway to her bedroom you will find a tiny salon to the left. I guess this was her ensuite sitting room and there's nothing strange about that, but it just felt so awkward, kind of shoehorned into the space. Though still lovely and not lacking in the handcrafted detail of the grand salons, done in white with gorgeous silvery blue tapestry accented with lots of gilt, of course.

That second mirror on the outside wall seems strangely placed?

 
    

Lots more to come next week (and the next week, and the next week...)!

Photos © The Swelle Life

Floral Friday! The Walk Into Wallington

(Apologies for missing Versailles which I promised for yesterday. We travelled back to Toronto to find that the cable and internet were out. So Rogers made a liar out of me. Ach. However, I am flagellating myself for not delivering, it's way overdue.) 

The proper title of this post is actually 'The Walk Into Wallington's Walled Garden' but that's a big of a tongue twister. Last week I showed you the incredible pond, dense with lily pads and frollicky baby coons, which is actually what's behind this gate after you've walked a couple of minutes through the forest:

And we continue the tour which makes no chronological sense at all because I'm taking you back to the beginning!

 

The mansion at Wallington is a real treasure trove of curiosities. Last year I showed you the dollhouse rooms but there's so much more and I'll get to it one day ...

   

Next week we finally get into the walled garden which is so beautiful you won't be able to stand it.

Photos © The Swelle Life

Cupcake Monday Revisited: (Still) Sew Yummy

(Today I was travelling, we're going between families while we're here in Ontario for our summer visit home, and now the time zone is five hours behind the UK so things might be a little off here and there(like this post), but I do plan to be blogging regularly.)

Before leaving Toronto this morning I had hoped to pick up some pastries and Cupcake Monday subjects from Petite Thuet but the sign said 'Ferme' on Monday. I'm not being cute, it did say it in French and I like that.  There's an interesting story behind the man, renowned and controversial Alsatian chef Marc Thuet, who apparently has wrapped up his second season of Conviction Kitchen, a TV series in which he opens a high-end restaurant in Toronto from scratch and staffs it with convicted criminals. No murderers, I checked. It's hard to prepare food with butter knives.

Just one or two doors down is Pastis where we had a great French dinner on Saturday night, and I noticed a few other French places that warrant exploration in the dense with goodness Rosedale area. I know where I'll be focussing my attention when we go back, things have changed from last year as they tend to in the city.

The house fish soup at Pastis was divine as was their Assiette Gourmand which included a mini creme brulee, profiterole and double chocolate torte which was like firm butter and was served with a pistachio creme. We each ordered one and must have been nuts not to just share but I guess it's just not a successful dining night out if I'm not doubled over in cramps on the way out. I also had Steak Frites and I'm sure they cook the frites in duck fat, and they give you a ton, so I felt like I'd eaten a bowling ball and not one of those little 5-pins either.

The photo I'm showing has absolutely nothing to do with this post! To save time and get Cupcake Monday up (which I blew by writing a lot) I dug out an old edition, one I didn't even remember when I saw it so I'm hoping it'll be new to you, too!

This sewing machine topper was made a few years ago by the amazing cupcake sculptress Zalita who I featured in the not so final Cupcake Monday post and earlier with her utterly charming vintage tea party cupcake. They may not be a tie-in but all of these things sure are adorable and amazing.

Hopefully I'll be able to show some Petite Thuet next Monday...

Reflecting on Paris at Lost in Cheeseland

When I was in Paris in April I met up with Philly expat Lindsey from Lost in Cheeseland, a well written and beautifully photographed blog about our favourite and most exhilarating city. During our easy and interesting conversation - the kind that makes two hours feel like 20 minutes and makes you late for dinner in Versailles! - at a cafe on Rue Montorgueil, Lindsey told me she'd like to interview me for Franco File Friday. It's a very popular weekly feature and I was too happy to talk about Paris  and share the company of her wonderfully inspiring previous subjects.

You can read the interview here.  I'll be featuring Lindsey later this summer with my own questions about her (heartbreakingly) covetable life in Paris.

Is it just me, or do you also crave French cheese when you see 'Lost in Cheeseland'?

Versailles Series: Marie Antoinette's Chateau, the Petit Trianon Pt. 2

 

This is the salon in the Petit Trianon, the grandest room in the chateau. Some of the photos are a bit dark; however, the duskiness does convey the hazy, 'frozen in time' feel of the room at that moment. The berry saturated embroidered silk textiles that carry throughout the room complement the pale green and white painted boiseries gorgeously, and serve as a teaser for the more vivid acid hues we're about to see in the Grand Trianon.

If you notice dark smudges in some of the mirrors, fear not, it's no ghost (though that sure would be cool). I could pretend it's a patina belying the age of the 18th century artefacts as  seen in some of the other rooms, but really it's my poor attempt to erase the reflections of the crowd. A big guy in an electric blue t-shirt with a giant Nike swoosh on it kinda blows the scene.

Watch next week for a small but charming bedroom that I can't believe Marie Antoinette slept in, with its own awkwardly placed salon, and her toilet!

You can see the previous posts in the Versailles Series here

 

    
 
 

     
 
 
 
 

   

 
 

Photos © The Swelle Life

Versailles Series: Marie Antoinette's Chateau, the Petit Trianon Pt. 1

Originally built by Louis XV between 1762-1768 for his long-term mistress, Madame de Pompadour (who did not wear a pompadour), the Petit Trianon was eventually given to Marie Antoinette by Louis XVI when he became the King of France (and let's not forget Navarre) in 1774. Unlike the elder mistress of his grandfather who died four years before its completion, Queen Marie actually did live in it.

At 19, she'd already been married for five years after being shipped off from Austria by her mother to marry the future king of France and didn't care much for her royal duties.  She spent much of her time in the (relatively) little chateau and its gardens with her few friends, and later with her children.

It is said that even King Louis wasn't allowed to enter his wife's domain without her permission (impressive) and that he really didn't mind. (You can take that both literally and figuratively - he was more into his hobbies than his wife and they didn't consummate their marriage until 1777, according to a letter Marie Antoinette wrote to her mother. However, considering they were 15 and 14 years old when they married it makes the whole thing far less gross. )

And our tour continues! (The really cool rooms start with the next post.) As you walk into the grounds of the Petit Trianon you see...

 
 

 

     

  

 

Have you seen that Seinfeld episode where George's dad puts a pool table in a tiny room and every time someone goes to shoot they slam their cue into the wall, themselves or someone else? This room reminds me of that.

 
 

 

  

 

 

 

 
  

Everything must be gold!

 

 

 
   
 
 

 
 

 

Lots more to follow and it gets better. This tour is a slow burner!

Photos © The Swelle Life

The Last of Paris...

 

 

 

 

One of the views from our hotel balcony...I miss it

 
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
   

Photos © The Swelle Life

Paris Week: Jardin du Luxembourg Pt. 2

Carrying on from last week's Pt. 1, here are more glimpses of one of my most favourite places, Jardin du Luxembourg in Paris. And now I cry.

 

 
 
 
 
I understand now why Parisians are so slim. There are scales all over the park so you can keep that bread and pastry intake in check.

This may not be the best view:

 

 

 

These kids were antagonising the pigeons for about half an hour. I guess they know how to make their own fun.

 
 
  
  
 
 

Photos © The Swelle Life

Versailles Series, Pt. 1: Bassin de Neptune

While in Paris I visited Versailles for the first time. Why I didn't go when we lived there I have no idea, maybe I fell into that trap of thinking you have lots of time, then it's gone. Here is the first of what will be many, many posts from Versailles. I walked for 6 hours straight, didn't eat, got a bit of sunstroke and took over 1000 pictures,  and I didn't even see the main palace. (And I'm not finished with my show and tell of Paris, either!)

This series is all about Marie Antoinette's domain, the Petite Trianon and the Grand Trianon.

Admittedly, this introduction, starting with Bassin de Neptune, is the most boring of the scenery. How's that for a lead-in! It's the very first thing I saw when I left the grounds of the palace to go to the trianons of Marie Antoinette's domain. It was stunning in person and I'd wish I had a picnic with me, but of course it can't compare to the structures and the lavish rooms of the palaces, or the gardens, in photos. I could have edited heavily and got into it quicker, but I'm showing all of the angles for those who haven't been and want a feel for what's it really like to be there.

The Bassin de Neptune took over a century to complete (and you thought condos were scandalously behind schedule) and features in Versailles' spectacular fountain show. I did not see this spectacular fountain show. But it's just as well, I seriously could not take in any more beauty than I already had, it was gorgeousness overload and all I wanted to do at the end of the day was drop to the ground and sleep. I don't recommend that, however, there are a lot of dogs about.

I hope you like green.

   
 
 

 

     

 

 

The trees have been sculpted to look like giant hedges. How do they do it? And how often to maintain the sharpness of the edges? I can't find an answer, so if you know, please tell us in the comments!

 

This is the tree-lined path to Marie Antoinette's domain - a long, serene walk with horses and sheep providing the periferal scenery. This little lamb likes to walk around with his tongue sticking out, as so many of us do:

Photos © The Swelle Life

Cupcake Monday! Ladurée and Angelina's

Now, I must confess these Ladurée Champs Élysées images are sneaky pics. When I took Baby Swelle for brunch we were early so we queued in the shop, and I suspected you're not allowed to take photos because you don't really see it there, and I couldn't magine they would allow their exquisite haven of delights to become a flash-fest free for all.  I was discreet so as not to be intrusive, then was spied and told 'no pictures.' I got in trouble at Ladurée. I hung my head in shame, then was buoyed when it was my turn to choose. I took home macarons, a gift box of teddy bear chocolates in different colours and flavours for Baby Swelle that I will probably eat most of myself, that mauve egg, and some of their lovely Marie Antoinette tea (which I cannot believe I haven't tried yet - what is wrong with me?!) It's not hard to recognise that it was France's last queen who inspired the decor at Ladurée.

I also took ma petite to Angelina's. I know it's a tourist favourite but hey, as much as I hate to call it as it is, I am a tourist in Paris. And I couldn't rest until I had tried their famous chocolat chaud. It's liquid chocolate that you 'dilute' with whipped cream. Craziness. While the entrance area and shop were pretty (they allowed photos but I didn't take any, sometimes I just don't want to look like a tourist then I regret not having the photos later) and the ground level dining room looked nice enough (it's no Ladurée), I have to say that the upstairs looked like it hadn't been thought of for decades, which is probably the case. That's where we sat. Charming it was not. If you go, wait for a table downstairs, it will be worth it unless you're just there to get your chocolate on. 

I asked for their most beautiful pastry and our server brought me their Religieuse pistache. Usually they are decorated with gold balls but this one was missing them, and I have to say I've had better. Way better, in Paris. It wasn't the freshest. We shared one hot chocolate which you pour for yourself and we couldn't finish it between the two of us, it's just too much, though I know many who can handle one all to themselves. They were obviously born with iron stomachs. See that tiny bit of brown liquid in the cup? That was all I had and it was more than enough.

Back to Ladurée whose unwavering commitment to an enchanted experience have never let me down:
      

Ladurée ice cream!!!

I adore Petits Fours but didn't buy any, it's just all so overwhelming that you don't know where to look and your head spins. And unless you want to drop 100+ euros on pastries that should be eaten that day, you have to curb your enthusiasm. Just before I snapped these photos someone bought the Marie Antoinette entremet in Ladurée green, an unbelievably gorgeous cake that for a moment I considered taking home. Then it was gone.

Photos: The Swelle Life (To the people at Ladurée - no more sneaky pics, promise!)

Paris Week: Jardin du Luxembourg Pt. 1

One of my most favourite places in Paris is Jardin du Luxembourg. We got to know it well in 2009 when we lived next to it, and found it still had all of its magic when we were there again last week.  It didn't even give me allergies.

In the spirit of brevity, a concept with which I am only vaguely familiar, let's let the photos tell the story...

 

 

 
  

"I am very sorry to have to tell you this, Mademoiselle, but this will be the last horsie ride."

"Oh, wow... I need to take a moment. Damn."
 
 
 
    

 

 

 

 

Even the snack bar is pretty.

   

Photos © Denise Grayson, The Swelle Life

Cupcake Monday! The Paris Edition

Yesterday I explained that while I ate a lot of tasty Parisian food, it was devoid of Cupcake Monday subject matter. I promised I would make up for it, which I did, and I have the sweet breath and searing stomach pains to prove it.

First, the savoury (though I must admit I ate macarons for breakfast. They were there.) We had lunch at a nostalgic place, Le Cercle cafe in our old neighbourhood at the corner of Rue Gay Lussac and Blvd St-Michel, adjacent to one of my most favourite places on earth within my most favourite place on earth, Jardin du Luxembourg. Not only are its typically Parisian sidewalk tables great for people watching, you can count how many jaywalkers nearly get run over crossing the intersection! Seriously, it's nuts.

I had the duck confit with frites, Le Cercle has the best, and because all of that wasn't fatty enough I had them with the peppercorn sauce they serve with their pepper steak.  I regret nothing!

Having nothing to do but sit, eat and walk around all day, we decided to go somewhere else for coffee and dessert. So we headed down to Les Editeurs just behind St-Germain, a stylish library of a restaurant-cafe with creative dishes that for the most part I have only ogled on other people's tables. A great place for food watching? 

We had only coffees - I was saving the sweets for later - but Baby Swelle had the cassis sorbet which came with two chocolate wafers that mostly ended up in crumbs on the table, and how I wanted to eat those crumbs:

 
 

Next I was on my way to Place de la Bastille to meet Richard Gilles, you may remember him from that fantastic shopping and pampering tour of Fauboug Saint Antoine he treated us to recently. It was great to spend a bit of time chatting in his neighbourhood at Café Français, and the topper was my personalised tour of the area's best patisseries and chocolatiers. 

Seduced by the glossy pinks and rich chocolates of the ultra slick Lenôtre, I went a bit nuts.  I was handing over euros for pastries so fast it never occurred to me that they all had to be eaten tonight! Naturally the bar fridge in our room isn't working, either. 

We did manage to show this pretty treat from Dalloyau who's boss:

And I just love this mini latch-lid canning jar of strawberry and white peach which I will eat once we locate a spoon!

  

The packaging came at no extra charge. I love taking home pastries like they're little presents.

Photos © The Swelle Life

Paris, in lieu of Cupcake Monday (coming later!)

Sunday was our first full day in Paris after arriving late Saturday (and gorging on crepes for both dinner and dessert - savory + sweet = regret sometimes). Now, I was aware it was Sunday, and that Monday tends to follow, but my responsibilities around Cupcake Monday completely eluded me. Somehow, in the 403 photos I've taken so far, none of them are of cupcakes, pastries, macarons or food of any kind. I had great food today but it was not photogenic. In fact, it would have looked gross had I shown you and you would have asked why I was doing that to you. Cream sauces. However, I did see some great Easter windows at the many chocolatiers on St-Germain where we're staying, but I have a habit of being either in observer/photographer mode or shopping mode, the latter of which I was doing as the Easter Bunny, and I really have to try to merge those modes. (Admittedly I have one of those brains where a new thought pushes out an old one.)

So for now, here are photos from my day, and I promise I will bring you the sweet, pretty things later today and throughout the week because as sure as Sarkozy is horny I will eat a lot of them.

This is the view taken our first night from our hotel balcony, you can see Notre Dame and the Centre Pompidou:

  
 

 

  
  

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

Photos © The Swelle Life

Cupcake Monday! Les Cupcakes de Ladurée

 

I'm off to Paris this Saturday for eight days and all I can think about is pastries. When it comes to macarons I actually prefer Pierre Hermé, I just can't see how it gets better than his artful way of combining fresh, complex flavours so good that obscene noises come out of your mouth. But for old French, pastel-drenched, gilded charm, nothing beats Ladurée for the treat of all treats.

I've never had one of their cupcakes but it's time to rectify that. Look at them! So regal, pretty and perfect.

And considering we lived in Paris I find it a downright shame that I have only had one of Ladurée's divine pastries. How did that happen? Oh right, it's because Paris is full of this heavenly stuff, and one can only eat so many pastries. You think there's time, then next thing you know you're at Charles de Gaulle airport and security is telling you you're too pregnant to fly, only you're not pregnant. Was that just me?

I may have to find a way to justify ordering this  Marie Antoinette entremet:

A religious experience indeed!

Images from www.laduree.fr

PARISIENNE PLEASURES AND TREASURES: INTRODUCING JOURNALIST RICHARD GILLES

Around 2001 I moved from LA to that majestic masterpiece of a city, Paris. I called home a large fab apartment on a small street, which at the closer end had the bustling market street Rue Montorgueil and at the other end, the also bustling - but for very different reasons - Rue St Denis. There the ladies of the day and night competed for customers wearing some pretty outrageous and provocative outfits. On one occasion a group of ladies commented on my look with a resounding "c'est jolie " and from that day I started to get a faint nod of recognition as I passed regularly on my way to purchase fabrics or notions . If you want to discreetly glimpse at some amazing PVC and latex numbers, pop along the little side street Rue Blondel.

I worked constantly on my eponymous fashion line and my clothing went down a treat in Japan. Buyers would come to my apartment that converted into a convincing showroom during Fashion Week. It was a time of change for the better, away from the boundaries of the less adventurous LA, and I found myself becoming more experimental - inspiration was everywhere.

I would buy my fabrics in the maze of streets at the foot of the Sacre Coeur known as Marche Saint Pierre. If I recall correctly, the five floor store Dreyfus (selling everything from bargain basement fabrics to designer, and a fine range of basic cloth that suited me) was a regular haunt, but other less known gems were hidden along side streets. On the way home if I wasnt laden with goods I would pop into Tati, the shop with the pink and white gingham awnings. There you never knew what you might find from kitsch to useful or downright tacky and useless. It was plain old good fun shopping, cheap and cheerful (Metro Barbes Rochechouart). Then off back down the Rue Faubourg St Denis, passing my fave Passage Brady, a small covered passageway that was wall to wall Indian restaurants and food and trinket shops, simply yummy (Metro Chateau d'Eau). Then home to work.

Here are some pieces from my 2002 collections as styled for various Paris magazines:

 

This was my first time in Paris in the 70s, just minutes before a pastry hit me in the head!

 

From this wonderful melting pot of cultures and the most incredibly beautiful and exciting city hails my dear friend, journalist Richard Gilles. From next month he will become for Denise The Swelle Life's Paris eyes and ears and will report monthly from that grand city. Richard has that effortless chic that the French are renowned for. He is a well travelled, incredibly knowledgeable and cultured man and doesnt miss a trick. Perfect for Denise, living and working in the city she also adores. I asked Richard to give us a few tips on places to see which he has, and to my surprise has included a vivid funny account of how we met all those years back, the rascal.  Ahhh memories... à bientôt, J

*The couture coat I am wearing this week in my style photo was purchased in a "swap shop" for a mere 25 pence. The deal was you took in clothes you no longer wore, they gave you a price and you spent it in the shop.  I got £9.75 for my bits n bobs and nonchalantly asked for the coat in the window that I had spotted the day before when they were closed. I didn't sleep that night in anticipation - it's a "Lacroix, Darling"!

And now on to Richard Gilles

MADEMOISELLE FRANKLAND AND MOI…

 I vividly remember the first night Judith and I became firm friends: it was in Levita House – a rather derelict council building in the infamous Somerstown, where every single flat was squatted by either students, artists, or musicians but also a couple of Hell’s angels and drug dealers to add spice to the atmosphere - on the landing of the 5^th floor. Judith was dressed to the nines, but no one to go out with her! So I gently obliged… And we lived out of each other’s pocket for the following two years, when she left with her newly wed Italian husband for a Californian honeymoon - the charms of Disneyland, Snow White and the seven dwarves… But that’s another story La Frankland will be happy to tell you in her monthly diaries! May I add that I was Judith’s “bridesmaid” at her wedding, which took place in Chelsea Town Hall in the winter of 2006 and that, to Judith’s father’s bemusement, I was wearing a red kilt… Mind you, Judith was wearing a white leather cap found in a gay sex shop and was sporting more chains than Mister T around her neck. So much for the blushing bride! For some reason, there are hardly any pictures of Judith and I together, except for those taken in Italy (Milan and Venice) in 1990…

Three days ago – just before MY BIRTHDAY! - Judith Darling asked me to concoct a quick shopping guide in Paris.  So I decided to concentrate on the area where I live, typically Parisian and tourist free most of the time. Welcome to the Faubourg Saint Antoine!

In a sense, the Faubourg Saint Antoine is famous all over the world as La Bastille was located there. In the fifteenth century, the faubourg became the principal working-class quartier of Paris, cradle of revolutions and mother of street fighters… the rest is history! From its beginnings, the principal trade associated with it has been furniture making, and this was where the classic styles of French furniture – Louis Quatorze, Louis Quinze, Second Empire – were developed. Many furniture workshops, as well as related trades such as inlayers, stainers and polishers, still inhabit the maze of interconnecting yards and passages that run off the faubourg.

But enough of that, I will take you shopping now…

 

It’s about time to jazz up your little black dress, and Metal pointu's  bold jewelry will accomplish the expected miracle. The pieces are pure forms of daring, strong and bold metal.

Métal pointu’s, 9 rue de Charonne, 75009 Paris. Tel: +33 1 47 00 81 60

www.metal-pointus.com

 

 

 

You want to feel like a true Parisienne? Cleo Ferin Mercury was brought up in the colourful and multicultural area of La Goutte d’or, at the bottom of Montmartre. Her beautiful printed silk scarves will add a “je ne sais quoi” to any outfit. For her latest collection, Cleo took inspiration from her childhood icons: a youthful Brigitte Bardot, Dame Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra, Wanda Jackson, and Grace Jones.

Discover Cleo’s world at www.cleoferinmercury.co.uk

 

You love couture and exquisite ready-to-wear but you don’t want to break open the piggy bank? Le Dressing d’Eva is definitely worth a visit: one-off pieces by Pucci, Leonard, Ungaro, Yves Saint Laurent, Missoni, and Mugler, custom jewelry and accessories by Chanel, Vuitton, Ferragamo, Valentino, and Fendi.

Le Dressing d’Eva, 18 rue Jules Vallès, 75011 Paris. Tel: +33 1 44 93 70 81

www.ledressingdeva.com

 

Around the corner, Anna Colore customizes and transforms industrial furniture and objects, giving them a bold, personal, feminine touch.

Anna Colore Industriale, 7 rue Paul Bert, 75011 Paris, +33 1 43 79 41 62

www.anna-colore-industriale.com

 

 

Another curiosity is Petites Demoiselles, a temple dedicated to Blythe and Pullip dolls and their extensive, deluxe wardrobe.

Petites demoiselles, 16 rue des Boulets, 75011 Paris

petitesdemoiselles.blogspot.com

 

 

 

 

Feeling peckish? Time to discover true Oriental delights. La Bague de Kenza is the ideal venue: sweets and pastries filled with almonds, pistachios, walnuts, figs, or dates, and flavored with honey, rose water, orange blossom water, mint, citrus, or vanilla are beautifully arranged on numerous trays.

La Bague de Kenza, 173, Rue du faubourg St-Antoine, 75011 Paris.

labaguede.kenza.free.fr

The shopping experience has been exhausting? Time for the French Coiffeur experience thanks to Matt, who will know how to make you feel that extra special. 

Living Room, 22 rue des Taillandiers, 75011 Paris. + 33 1 43 55 66 81

www.livingroomparis.com

 

 

 

 

 

Craving for pampering? In the heart of a bustling city, Maison Dr Hauschka is a secret, peaceful haven dedicated to beauty and relaxation pleasantly located in a courtyard full of flowers.

La Maison Dr.Hauschka, 39 rue de Charonne, 75011 Paris. Tél :  +33 1 43 55 40 55

http://www.drhauschka.fr/

 

 

 

 

- Richard Gilles

Richard will be bringing his fantastic roundup of what's on in Paris and around the world as a regular feature - aren't we 'chanceux'!

Interiors & Exteriors: Saltburn-by-the-Sea

  

Now I love our beach, the aptly named Longsands that spans Tynemouth to Cullercoats, and the neighbouring idyllic King Edwards Bay with the Priory Castle overlooking the North Sea from its beautiful, craggy cliff. But last weekend I really fell hard for the beach and seaside community of Saltburn-by-the-Sea in North Yorkshire. We were visiting our lovely friends in their new home in Yarm for the first time and they spoiled us in all kinds of ways, and one of them was taking us to their local beach to share the beauty.

Not only was the beach gorgeous and expansive with an impressive look-out pier, there were all kinds of charming little shops, restaurants and ice cream stands, and of course anything one needed to surf (no, I didn't, that would look ridiculous).  It was a clear, sunny day and people from all over had come to pretend it was spring. I have never seen a queue so long for fish and chips, and in England that's saying a lot.  (It was worth the wait!)

This post  is for this week's Interiors & Exteriors feature and it's long enough sticking to the theme, so I'll post the beach shots separately. Are you craving fish and chips now? I am.

In the town, just a quick uphill walk from the beach, there were some great shops. I was already lagging behind and we needed to eat lunch so I didn't go in, but I wanted some photos of the wonderful window displays of Northern Lights Interiors

As I was snapping away I saw a woman smiling from inside - you can see her below! and I smiled and waved. As I headed down the road she came out after me and asked if I'd take photos of the storefront, they'd been having trouble getting them without cars in the way and I was happy to oblige. I even had a man ham it up for me!

 

We passed a random rusted-out door that appeared to lead to nowhere with a keypad right in the middle. I'll bet if you pushed the right numbers it would transport you to another dimension. Prove me wrong!

  This photo would have been so much cooler if I'd waited just 10 more seconds...

 

On display at Arts Bank were lamps and tables in vibrant patchwork by Jane Atkinson and a metal sculpture by Ray Lonsdale. Each contains a 'secret meaning' in the form of an object placed in the head. Now, if I'd read the brief beside this life-size contemplative man instead of taking a photo and reading at home, I would have looked and been able to tell you what was in his head! 

 
   

Photos by Denise Grayson

The Painted Houses Project: Around the World

Capetown, South Africa

Thanks to a quick response to the call for photo submissions to the Painted Houses Project which only launched five days ago, we've already got our first feature! These great photos sent in by readers are from cities all over the world which is what I was hoping the project would offer. In addition to seeing how colour dramatically enhances the landscape, we get a look into the diversity of aesthetics as they range from country to country, city to city.

Zendra has given us an intriguing look at Lesoto, Capetown and Norway:

Lesota, Africa. This appears to be a street scene with vibrant murals and people to match, one of the most beautiful things about Africa. I've never seen adornments on the ankles like this.

These brick red boat houses in Norway look especially striking against the backdrop of fresh greenery and blue, open skies:

 

Amy from Real Life Amy is originally from England and now lives in Australia. She took these lovely photos on her travels. Beautiful painted doors are part of the charm of Bath, England:

The buildings in Trier, Germany are so uniquely detailed and here we see a use of soft and earthy colour to create an warm, inviting feel in what appears to be the city centre. It would be enough to get me to sit down and have a beer, and I hate beer!

Angela Hooker contributed a photo as well, she's the talented textile designer for Felder Felder.  You can see her gorgeous work here. This building is near Marseilles in the south of France and Angela tells us that the house opposite was the same yet all painted green, with a green bike parked in front. Hearing that you do have to wonder if they painted their bikes to match the shutters, or vice versa!

A big thank you to Zendra, Amy and Angela for their fantastic contributions. If you have a photo you'd like to share you can email it using the Contact tab in the banner menu.  Tell us where you took it and anything else we might like to know about it!

For more about the Painted Houses Project you can have a look here

Cupcake Monday! The Pretty Ones + Porcelain Roses and Heartbreak

Let's just bask in the prettiness of these cupcakes which appear to be wrapped in ketchup cups! (Also brilliant for Jell-o shooters I recall from back in the day. I wonder if they stole theirs from McDonald's.) I was going to post more but these mini beauties really do it for me and so I don't really want to look at anything else (I'm loyal that way). Hope you don't mind.

The icing roses remind me of those tiny, delicate porcelain flowers. I have a silver anchor necklace just covered with them, I got it in Paris from Les Bijoux de Sophie. I came close to a public hissy fit when I was at a restaurant in Montmartre and its long pendant got hooked under the edge of the table so when I went to stand up it sheered off some of the roses. Augh! I'm still not over it. It stings. Although, it did teach me a lesson that things don't need to be so precious and I even tried to convince myself that it was more interesting that way. I had a story! Not a good one, but a story nonetheless.

 

I love its pretty take on the cheesy sailor tattoo. I still wear it and tell myself it's more beautiful in its accidental asymmetry.

And if those cupcakes are yours please do let us know as I found them with no credit given, for shame!

(Late) Cupcake Monday: The Edinburgh Edition

 

Apologies for the late post! I was in Edinburgh Sunday and Monday, we took my parents up there so they could see the city, they've never been to Scotland and living so close to it we'd be mad not to go! We attempted a trip up last Christmas when they were visiting (from Canada if you don't already know), but we had to turn back thanks to snowy, slippery roads. Yet it was a green Christmas back home in Ontario! It totally sucked but at least we got to have lunch in the Treehouse Restaurant at Alnwick Gardens on the way back. That's a pretty fine consolation.

Where did I go? Back to cupcakes! In the new part of Edinburgh I found a cute cupcake shop all done in pinks and browns on Hanover Street called Bibi's Cake Boutique. This is their second location after starting the business in St. Andrews and they do onsite courses as well. We got a box of cupcakes at half price as it was near closing time - you want the last treats to go to a good home, otherwise it's just tragic.

When I asked the lovely girl if I could take some pictures for Cupcake Monday she was agreeable but added, "You might want to try them before you write about us!" How's that for honesty? I laughed and picked out four nicely topped cupcakes that really didn't look as if they'd have me gagging and abandoning my post. They had nearly sold out but there really wasn't an undesirable one in the lot (what would that be? Haggis chocolate chip? Shredded tartan surprise? Bagpiper's underpants?). We got a Victoria sponge that had a little cake on top (cake on top of cake!), chocolate cheesecake, Bibi's brownie and white chocolate and vanilla. And you know what? I forgot to take a photo of them! And because me and Mr. Swelle were on our way to dinner at Hotel Missoni (more on that awesome experience tomorrow) I couldn't have one so I kind of shaved a sliver off the white choc and vanilla with my front teeth. Hardly adequate for giving a comprehensive review but it made me want to to shove the rest in my mouth, so I think that counts a praise.

People like getting cupcakes in pretty packaging - even guys, though they won't admit it. Just don't make them carry it.

 

 

This works for me. 

 

Treadwell and Eat Well

The olive oil was served with a berry balsamic type of vinegar (was it wild blueberry?) which was different and delicious

I'm now back in England, but while at home in Canada I had the kind of culinary treat that makes me glad for tastebuds in good working order. Having spent the first two weeks of our visit in one of my two Canadian homes, Toronto, where my own family began, we then went down to Niagara to visit my family. My husband and I were determined to get out for a special dinner and I really wasn't sure where to go. Our favourite place had a new name and a new chef and no offer of a tasting menu (our favourite thing to do is eat brilliant little plates of food for two or three hours), so we started our search anew using Toronto Life's Restaurant Guide. They have an out-of-town listing which isn't comprehensive but you can find some gems you were previously unaware of, and we did.

Treadwell was the fortuitous find, set on the Lake Ontario waters of Port Dalhousie. The chef and owner who brings the 'farm-to-table cuisine' is a Brit named Stephen Treadwell whose accomplishments include taking Toronto's Auberge du Pommier and the Tiara Dining Room at Queen's Landing in Niagara-on-the-Lake to award-winning heights, and co-pioneering the concept of "Niagara Cuisine" with chefs Michael Olsen, Mark Picone and Tony de Luca. (It was Tony that was chef at what was our favourite Niagara restaurant before he left, and thanks to google I have now tracked him down again. Now we have two places to visit next summer!)

We had to go all-out with the six course tasting menu and wine pairings which were chosen and presented by sommelier and co-owner James Treadwell, the chef's son. It was this service that made our dinner extra special, James himself was a treat. Without pretension he succinctly and joyfully described the qualities of each Niagara wine and why he chose it to accompany the course, and he was right about each and every one. They both balanced and enhanced the flavours in the food, and having the pairings gave us the opportunity to try wines we wouldn't have tried, or even discovered, on our own. A little table-side education is always welcome.

I apologise for the quality of the photos as I didn't want to take too much time getting the light right when I could be eating! That sounds like a pretty good excuse.

 

 After a tasty amuse-bouche of warm, fresh yellow tomato soup (this would be presented as an amuse-gueule in France) we were served the first course of pan seared Grade A foie gras with local blueberries from Whitty Farms. It may have been the best foie gras I've ever had.

 

Roasted red pepper and local tomato gazpacho with sheeps milk and lime sorbet, presented with a cheese 'straw'. The lime sorbet was a nice surprise and just gorgeous.

 

Roasted beets with Best BAA feta, with dill and hazelnut vinaigrette. There were a few white cherries as well which I've never had before. That was by far the best feta I've ever had.

 

Seared Lake Erie pickerel with smoked bacon and tomato salad with fingerling potatoes. This was my husband's favourite.

After five glasses of perfectly matched wine and still one to go with pudding, I was off my nut. I'm the one who feels warm and sluggish after two sips of cab franc. I realised that I was no longer maintaining my elegant public decorum when I became aware that I had wrapped my fist around the fork and was punching at my succulent lavendar and honey glazed muscovy duck breast while embracing my plate. I'd like to say this was out of love - and it might have been as well! - but mostly it was because my body was becoming too heavy to support on my own:

Peach cobbler with local Whitty Farms peaches and rosemary caramel ice cream. I was so full by now that I just couldn't manage to eat all of the cobbler despite it being divine. One of my favourite things about tasting menus is that the chef always makes their own ice cream so you're guaranteed something very fresh with unique flavours. Rosemary and caramel didn't disappoint!

If you're outside of the city it's worth a drive into St. Catharines, especially on a clear, sunny day. Ask for a window table so you have a clear view of the water. Even at night it's really beautiful. (And at night you can no longer see the ducks swimming which is a small blessing when you're eating one.)

Scenes from a Rural Niagara Zoo

There's a zoo in Stevensville, Ontario, not far from Niagara Falls. It's called Zooz. The other day my parents and I took my daughter and I was pleasantly surprised by our day. Usually I come away from public family places exhausted and not wanting to see another human for a week, but this time I left not dreading going back next year! That's a compliment. We even had the rehearsal and sound check of a Guns N Roses cover band as the soundtrack to our time at the playground near closing time (they have concerts on weekends as well). The singer didn't sound much like Axl Rose but the music was solid and made me want to do this in the sand. 

Now, I'm not sure I like the idea of caged animals unless they're being protected, but they've done a nice job creating marshes and lakes, have metal sculptures juxtaposed nicely against the foliage, and they do a hippo and giraffe feeding. Apparently the hippos spray 'urine and feces' on each other and will do the same to spectators as well. Funny how no one walks away after they tell you that. 

He, or she (I didn't see that 'part') looks sad but hopefully isn't. At one point, this pensive baboon who looked so much like an old man, actually unnerved me a bit by looking right at me. I suddenly felt self-conscious taking photos.

A pile of lemurs which looked like little freaky-eyed pandas

Every zoo needs a water park. Actually, when you have kids with you, and it's freaking hot, it does.

 

 

A rare sighting of Coca-Cola in its natural habitat

 

Giraffes are such unusual and fascinating creatures. They had a male and a female named Noah and Rainbow. If I had to name them I might have gone with Mr. Furley and Tori Spelling.

 

 

 

Toronto Art: Shaun Downey Finds Fame with 'Blue Coco'

Blue Coco. Shaun Downey

Carrying on with all things Toronto during my stay that is just about *sniff* up - an event that links my former home with my current one - I introduce you to Toronto artist Shaun Downey. The name may ring a bell, however, as may the painting above. Shaun's portrait Blue Coco was recently selected for exhibition in this year's Portrait Award competition at the National Portrait Gallery in London, England. Out of the 58 chosen from 2,177 entries, Shaun's work was singled out to be the 'face' of the gallery's advertising campaign, including a 9-metre-high banner at the museum's entrance on Trafalgar Square to mark the exhibition's opening in June.

It's an intriguing portrait worth a long stare or two, don't you think?

So who's 'Coco'? She's 20 year-old model Dearbhail Bracken-Roche who goes by the fashionable nickname when working. She sat for Shaun at age 17 when the friend of a friend introduced the two, and the rest is now blue-tinged history. Interestingly, she's now living and working in London and has found fame in the city, often being recognised in the street. I suppose that happens when your giant, unusually beautiful face is plastered over one of London's most famous and popular landmarks, as well as the tube stations. (How would you feel? Honoured and thrilled or completely freaked out?)

The artist and muse at the National Portrait Gallery in London. From Shaun's blog.  

As you may have guessed, Shaun prefers to paint portraits. The work featured on his site is exclusively portraiture dating back to 2004, and all of his subjects are women, though they are not always captured in the formal pose. There's a quiet calm about these pictures, as if the seemingly ordinary moment is being held not just within the frame but is occupying a pensive dimension in which we're being granted a peak. The background colours are soft yet often vibrant which make his work, in my mind, 'happy' pictures, something I'd like to look at everyday. His paintings are gorgeous.

Congratulations, Shaun!

The Doorway. Shaun Downey, 2007 

 

Green Mug. Shaun Downey, 2009

 

Holly in Yellow. Shaun Downey, 2009.

 

The Reception. Shaun Downey, 2005

 

The Old Apartment. Shaun Downey, 2006

 

Toronto Cupcake Fix: The Cupcake Shoppe

There are certain things I must do when I come to Toronto for my annual visit home. All of them involve food, but one. I must have a facial at Pure + Simple, visit the authentic French patisseries on Mount Pleasant and Bayview (complete with real French people and I don't mean Quebecois, no offence to my family); eat an Italian focaccia sandwich and a slice of pepperoni pizza from Bocconi at Yonge & St. Clair (I've been going there for 11 years and they have remained consistent throughout); and a cupcake from The Cupcake Shoppe at Yonge & Eglinton. There's a lot more eating involved, of course, and that's usually reserved for exploring new restaurants that have popped up in our absence and visiting old favourites. And I have to admit, a Wendy's Spicy Chicken must be procured as well, there's no Wendy's in England. Don't laugh!

I had to get two of the Creamsicle in case someone else got it before I could try one. I couldn't live with that.

The Cupcake Shoppe is Toronto's first specialty cupcake shop and I used to go there when I worked just a few doors down. That was about 7 years ago and like the other places I've mentioned, they are still delish and have remained consistent. They are small cupcakes with light frosting and you tend not to feel too bad about eating one (not that I ever did!). My favourite is the After Ate (chocolate and mint) and today I saw the Creamsicle for the first time and knew I had to have it. I'm on my way out to meet friends for sushi but I just ate half of one (ok, half of two) and it was oh so nice. The flavour in these cakes lingers and intensifies after you've taken a bite. That's gooood cupcake.

The Hauntingly Beautiful Dollhouses of Wallington, Pt. 2

 

Carrying on from Tuesday's post on the enchanting dollhouses of Wallington, here are more rooms with unbelievable detail, like the little buckets under the shelf in the pantry on which several plates of food are waiting, as if the family is about to sit down and eat at any minute. Or how each of the mirrors and picture frames are completely different and highly ornate as was the style at the time.

If you enjoy these, well good! There are lots more from the Wallington house to come...

 

The Hauntingly Beautiful Dollhouses of Wallington, Pt. 1

 

I'm working like a mad woman to launch Swelle Boutique (it's nearly there!) but I wanted to leave you with something special should it be a couple days before I'm able to post again. I visited Wallington a few weeks ago, a National Trust property in Morpeth, Northumberland (that's in the north east of England) with a grand mansion and gorgeous lawns, lakes, parkland and woodland. There's also a beautiful walled garden which we didn't have time to see, but it was cold and gloomy so we'll save that for a lovely day.

I'll tell you more about Wallington in future posts (there is quite a bit to show) but for now here is the first part of the dollhouses from the 17th century mansion's dollhouse room which contains one huge house - like an apartment block - and several smaller ones, the interiors of which are magnificent and shabby all at once. The detail of the period furniture and decor (early 1900s) is breathtaking and some of it is in quite a state of disrepair - evident in the wear on the fabrics and wallpapers and headboards askew - and it creates the feeling that these rooms have actually been lived in by the heavy chested tenants (see below, they are heaving!) for the past century. The effect is utterly charming.

The photos are a bit blurred, the rooms in the dollhouses were very dim and I was shooting through their tiny windows. But it kind of lends to the ghostly feeling and apparently I'm lucky to have had the opportunity to take the photos, it's only been a year since they've allowed cameras. 

Want to see more? Here's Part 2

Beach Blues

I haven't enhanced the colour in these photos, it was simply a gorgeous azure blue day at our beach and some parts of the sky were just vivid. It''s hard to believe that the North Sea, so grey and forbidding and at times fiercely turbulent in winter (only the latter keeps the year-round surfers away bar the odd nutter) could be so calm and saturated and beautiful. But will it last? Ha! This is the north east of England!

The beach was tiny at high tide when we arrived after 11 am and three hours later it had tripled in size when the tide was moving out, and it was getting very busy. It's still never as crazy as those Florida beaches where you couldn't fit a hand between the umbrellas. It's the beach that cures my homesickness.

 

The North Sea may be freezing but it's clean and crystal clear! I'll take that over warm and dirty any day (I'm talking to you, Lake Ontario and Lake Erie, where I swam when I was younger before they were deemed too disgusting and dangerous for humans). Yes, this will do just fine. Hmm...on second thought, apologies to the aforementioned Great Lakes, it's not really your fault, is it?

Paradise Found: The Quarry Garden at Belsay

   

A little while ago I did a series of posts with photos from my first visit to Belsay Hall, Castles and Gardens (you can read those here, just scroll down) in the beautiful Northumberland countryside. I had yet to show the quarry garden which actually made me gasp as I walked into it and got an eyeful of its awesome rock formations, grotto and blossom trees. I could live in those gardens. I got to visit again when I was invited to the press day for their latest art exhibition called Extraordinary Measures which was a fantastic experience. I'll be posting about it just as soon as I can finish it. It was a fascinating exhibition, there's a lot to talk about!

And on to the gardens - are they not absolutely beautiful?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photos by Denise Grayson @ The Swelle Life

Cupcake Monday! The Bristol Edition

One last post about Bristol! (For now.) This is yet another cupcake shop (this one also serves ice cream) that I only experienced through the window. It's not the tastiest experience and licking the glass won't actually do you any good but at least the visual impression of sweetness is something that stays with you, unlike that fleeting satisfaction you get from actually eating a cupcake. (I'm trying to make myself feel better about not having a cupcake right now. Every time I post Cupcake Monday I suffer.) 

Below we see those giant teacups again in this nostalgic trip down stomach-ache lane. You can order them online and it would be perfect for the sunflower my daughter planted at school which has quickly grown to 18 inches tall and hasn't even bloomed yet. It would be cruel not to buy one of these adorable planters for it. It's the right thing to do.

Scenes from Bristol, the Pastel Painted City

After three posts about Bath (here for an adorable cupcake shop, here and here) I finally get to my shots of Bristol, from my trip down to the south west of England last weekend to visit my brave friend Sophie. I call her 'brave' not only because she shared a room with me for three nights but because she just posted and tagged me in a photo on Facebook of me riding a mosaic pig in Bath. I don't recall signing a waiver!

Anyway, Bristol is a really cool city. It's very diverse ethnically (for a British city) and it's got a buzzing kind of energy. It's very green and on our way to brunch on my last day Sophie took me through a forest  across the street from her house that was just magical. It had wildflowers all over and a stream flowing through it and I swear I saw fairies fluttering by and everything, singing in Bristolian accents. Of course my camera was packed away tightly in my suitcase as I was on my way back home and hadn't a clue of what earthly delights lay ahead of me (and I was trying not to be annoying with my camera on my last day, the other person always has to wait while you get your shots), but I have a project for next time. 

I especially loved all of the pastel-painted houses. Every city should have pink, yellow and baby blue buildings. It's the right thing to do. Who doesn't want to live in the land of Edward Scissorhands?

 

 

A Banksy left over from his exhibition

Definitely Banksy, but with paint splatters of unknown origin added fairly recently:

I thought the splats looked stylised and intentional - look at the blue one in the hanging guy's armpit. That's not random. Not sure who put them there (why would Banksy do this?) but care was taken, this wasn't some wiener shooting paint balls from the street. Some wiener with a ladder, maybe? 

 

 

(Banksy's tag beneath. But NOT Banksy in the lower right. Maybe THAT'S the wiener!)

 

 

 

 

 

We saw these two girls in costumey hats, struggling with their big old suitcases down the street. As they were fumbling they rambled on with a curious drone like two Marlas from Fight Club,that nutter of a character that Helena Bonham Carter played. I knew I had to take a photo. After I said 'thanks' and began to walk away one of them said "Make tea not war." Good thing she did, I've now cancelled my cruise missile testing in favour of a nice cup of Earl Grey.

 

I tripped right about here, nearly took a header. In front of a group of people, of course. I've lived here for years now and still those uneven stones get me every time I go out of the house, they're all over England! I consider them a threat to national security, something must be done! 

The breathtaking view of the suspension bridge from the back patio of a bar in Clifton, the most beautiful part of Bristol. 

Drinks and scenery.

 

 

A Peek at the Beautiful City of Bath, Pt. 2

It seems to be Bath week here at The Swelle Life! We saw a sorbet-hued cupcake shop on Monday, yesterday was the first batch of pictures of the scenery and today we see the rest of my shots that are blog worthy, taken last Friday in probably the most beautiful city I've ever seen. I took nearly 700 photographs of Bath and Bristol (I haven't even gotten to those yet!) and in doing this post I feel as if I'm back there again. My lovely friend Sophie who showed me around like a pro (she loves her Google maps) should expect me back sometime soon!

   

 

 

I like that Grace Kelly is gazing at us through the window

  

 

 

 

Jamie Oliver's restaurant which had an hour wait so we moved on before we chewed our handbags

 

 

A Peek at the Beautiful City of Bath, Pt. 1

Yesterday we looked at a cupcake shop in Bath and today I'm showing a little tour of the city I didn't want to leave. The weather was perfect; clear, warm and sunny, and it was probably the greenest city I've ever seen. I didn't have the right lens to accurately capture the gorgeous hills that served as a backdrop to much of the scenery but I found them to be one of the things that made Bath so beautiful and picturesque.

Here's a bit of what it's like to live in Bath (and if you do, know that I hate you just a little):

We saw a few horse and buggies around town. I didn't realise the groom was waving until just now. Sorry, Mr. Groom!

 

How could I be in Bath and not visit the Roman Baths?

 

The terrace:

Views of the Great Bath:

 

At the very heart of the site is the Sacred Spring.  Hot water at a temperature of 46°C (115° F) rises here at the rate of 1,170,000 litres every day and has been doing this for thousands of years. In the past this natural phenomenon was beyond human understanding and it was believed to be the work of the ancient gods.

 

The circular plunge bath which had projections of Roman male bathers on the wall (something the ladies could enjoy and a few guys, too):

 

 

The head of Minerva which was found in Stall Street in 1727.

Artefacts which include what looks like a comb. Pretty tiny for hair, though.

Brooches, one of which dates back to the 1st century AD.

Stones with pictures engraved into them, such as a discus thrower, lion and racing chariot. Sounds pretty Roman to me. These were found in the Roman drain in 1878.

See Part 2 tomorrow - I think this one's long enough!

Cupcake Monday! The Bath, England Edition

I travelled to Bristol this past weekend to visit my friend Sophie who played marvellous host to her vibrant and diverse home. However, our first day was a walk around Bath, a neighbouring city that is so beautiful and picture-perfect it doesn't seem quite real. And I didn't want to leave. There's lots more on that to come but today it's about a cute cupcake shop, called I don't know what! I asked for a card but they didn't have any and it would seem I left without a clue as to where I was. Bath is tiny so if you find yourself there, chances are you'll see it. I can't comment on the taste of the cupcakes as we didn't stop in, we'd just arrived and had lots to see, but it all sure does look good.

Next week's edition will feature a cute cupcake and candy shop window in Bristol which also displayed those giant, spotty teacups - aren't they the neatest planters?

    

A Look Back at Picture House at Belsay: Forest Bedrooms, Teacups & Silver Dipped Ballgowns

Geraldine Pilgrim (corridor productions)
Dreams of a winter night

In some recent posts we saw Stella McCartney's stunning Lucky Spot installation at Belsay Castle, a horse made of 8,000 crystals assembled on wires in a hauntingly beautiful medieval room. The horse was a revival of sorts from a project that began a few years ago when English Heritage invited 15 of the most original and experimental film directors, artists, actresses and designers from Britain and around the world to bring Belsay Hall, Castle and Gardens (oh, those gardens! More to come on those) to life with a series of cutting edge art installations.

Picture House opened in spring of 2007 and transformed the neo-classical mansion in Northumberland, its 14th century castle and Grade I Listed gardens with electrifying works of fashion, sculpture, music, design, poetry, music and video.

The next art exhibition to take place on the glorious grounds at Belsay is Extraordinary Measures and I'm thrilled to say I've been invited to their press day to tour the works, hear from the curator and take pictures. It's about a place "where size is off the scale. Where the miniscule is made massive and huge surroundings hide surprises. Where ancient buildings always hold something new" - it sounds like Alice in Wonderland meets the coolest treasure hunt there ever was.

Here's a preview:

Hey, it's the miniature old couple from David Lynch's Mulholland Drive!

And back to Picture House at Belsay, beginning with Viktor & Rolf's centrepiece of silver ballgowns, from their latest collection at the time, drenched in dripping silver in Pillar Hall. Their piece referenced the Dutch tradition of dipping a child's shoe in silver to preserve it as a keepsake. "We were inspired by that same desire to preserve a memory," said Viktor Horsting. "To treasure the past. To freeze time."

 

Geraldine Pilgrim (corridor productions)
Dreams of a winter night

 

Quay Brothers
Coffin of a servant's journey

 

A collaboration between Boudicca and Mike Figgis

 

Tilda Swinton created this piece called Belsayland for Arthur Middleton's bedroom, working alongside her husband, playwright and visual artist John Byrne, and their children. It was realised by Neil Murray in association with Northern Stage.

Corollarium. Northumbria University graduate, Francesca Steele, was awarded the Belsay FellowshipGeraldine Pilgrim (corridor productions) which provided her with the opportunity to exhibit alongside the more well known names.

 

Imogen Cloët and Jacob Polley
The Recollection Rooms

 

Peepshow. Costume designer Sandy Powell created a 'peephole' into Lady Middleton's bedroom, where viewers could spy on the inhabitant.

Photos: The Telegraph

Maui Wowie

An old friend is getting married in Maui this year and she asked about our time there. Me and Mr. Swelle travelled to the island on our honeymoon in 2005, three years before I began writing this blog, so I thought I'd share with everyone. And revisit our trip to paradise. Looking at the photo above I can still smell the air and feel what it was like to stand at the water in the presence of this awesome natural beauty.

No one would ever describe me as adventurous, particularly brave or thrill-seeking, but I had one afternoon when I did something nuts (of course I had no idea how crazy it was going to be before doing it). We did the Road to Hana tour which takes you all around this glorious Maui mountain on a mini bus, on a very narrow road, at times on the very edge of the ledges (see photo below. That is a heck of a lot higher than it looks!). We saw cars that had gone over the edge that were caught in trees. This mountain was dense with the lushest rainforests and natural wonders like an 80 foot tiered waterfall, rainbow eucalyptus trees and black sand beaches. Our tour guide was a very friendly and very fearless Somoan woman who told us all kinds of stories about the various parts of the mountain, and she even found time to fit one in about how her dad would beat her and her brothers and sisters when they were little. That was probably the least enjoyable.

So these are photos from the Road to Hana. I'm missing a lot of them which kind of makes me feel sick. Amongst those gone astray are the grave of Charles Lindbergh and a man who was well known on the island who I can't recall the name of, but will never forget because he had monkeys for children ("So do I" I hear you saying but he really considered his three monkeys his flesh and blood, he was even buried amongst them - yes, they had their own tombstones and somewhere I have pictures of them). He would dress them up in little suits and take them to church, and as I recall his fellow parishioners were none too pleased. (It was probably the flinging of monkey feces during the liturgy that put them over the edge).

You can see how high up we were, we're practically in the clouds! It was here that we stopped at a hut selling banana bread made with the bananas from the trees on the mountain.

Lava rock

The black sand beach

Charles Lindbergh said this when he was dying of cancer and advised by his doctors not to travel as it would surely further diminish his last days: "I love Maui so much," he said. "I would rather live one day in Maui than one month in New York."

Ferris Wheels, Bombings and a Guy on a Ledge

Last week me and the fam hit the road to Sheffield to take care of some super-neato immigration stuff, like getting fingerprinted, photographed and de-loused. (That last one maybe didn't happen.) While I was disappointed that Def Leppard was not there to greet us with an enthusiastic rendition of Rock of Ages as we entered the city centre, I did get to see a giant ferris wheel, like the London Eye, in what I think is Castle Square. Without Joe Elliot to guide me I can only guess. I think at the time there were two people on it. This is probably one of the few times where having something all to yourself might feel more awkward than awesome. This reminds me of the time me and my younger brother were at the local death trap carnival and we went in that ride that's like a ferris wheel but it has those cages that spin. Well, we were probably too small, I think we were about seven and ten years old, but the guy let us on anyway. My brother was definitely too small and slipped under the 'safety' bar when the cage started to roll and he was getting tossed around that thing like a lone tube sock in the dryer. He's screaming "Aughhh aughhh" and I'm screaming "Stop! Stop! Stop the ride!" while the carnie is thinking "Oh man, this Du Maurier sure tastes sweet."

There wasn't a whole lot of history - relatively speaking as this is England - to capture in the town centre as the poor city was bombed by the Germans in the 1940s. So the architecture is mostly a mishmash of what was borne of later decades with a smattering of charming 18th and 19th century buildings, maybe some older. We were in and out so I didn't get a chance to see what else the city had to offer but the countryside is really beautiful. And there are wild daffodils along the entire highway! And not one single, errant shoe.

 

 

There's an unusual sculpture hanging out high on the corner of the Co-op building that greets you when you come into the city instead of Def Leppard. I don't know who it is but this elongated figure sure grabs your attention:

 

Old Castles, Spring Gardens and Stella McCartney's Crystal Horse Pt. 2

Carrying on from yesterday's post (hence the 'Pt. 2' in the title), here are more photos of my visit to Belsay Hall, Castle and Gardens in Northumberland, north east England.

 The stables at Belsay

Belsay Hall is an early 19th century mansion with a Greek doric style slanted roof. It's not the most gorgeous of exteriors, it's very stark but the interiors were interesting. A family by the name of the Middletons actually lived here until 1962. It is now a proper of English Heritage.  

 

 

These Delft tiles lined both sides of the fireplace in one of its large rooms

Belsay Hall from the rear

The scenery from the side of the mansion:

 

Back to Belsay castle, a 14th century medieval castle. The main structure, a substantial three storey rectangular pele tower with rounded turrets and battlements was constructed about 1370, and was the home of the Middleton family. I cannot believe people lived in this, oh how mighty cold it must have been (see photos below). Future generations of the family resided here until the early 19th century when they built and moved into Belsay Hall. 

I have no idea what this is, it was in the ruins part of the castle. Some kind of oven? Maybe Wendy Brandes will know.

The spiral staircase from beneath

This is the room where Stella McCartney's crystal horse was displayed

You could go out onto the roof by the turret and take in the view of the countryside.

The view from the top. Those white specs on the grass are sheep.

 

 

I am going to have to do those glorious gardens in another post as this one is getting long, but I have to show you more of Lucky Spot, the horse that was conceived of by Stella McCartney as part of English Heritage's project to transform Belsay in 2004. It is made of 8,000 Swarovski crystals and when the light floods in through the medieval windows the crystals produce brilliant prismatic patterns across the walls.

 

 

 

I've gathered some images of the other installations that were commissioned for this project and I'll post those tomorrow. It includes Viktor & Rolf.

Old Castles, Spring Gardens and Stella McCartney's Crystal Horse Pt. 1

Today we took advantage of a gorgeous spring day and went off to explore some of the beautiful Northumberland countryside. We drove to Belsay Hall, Castle and Gardens and I think I may have stumbled upon paradise. (I thought I found it when I went to Maui but it seems to exist way up here in the north east of England, too.) I just got a new camera and this was the perfect place to try it out, the gardens were spectacular and flooded with mid-afternoon sunlight. 

  
A room in the cellar of Belsay Hall, an early 19th century mansion

 

Belsay Castle. The turret part of the castle is 700 years old

 

And this image below is a bit of a teaser, I have so much more to show from this piece and the project itself. It's an installation conceived by Stella McCartney as part of a project involving thirteen British creatives that was commissioned by English heritage to transform Belsay in 2004. More on that tomorrow!

All photos by Denise Grayson

Things to See in Paris: Paul Guillaume's Amazing, Miniature Apartment

I still have many, many photos from the two months we lived in Paris last year and amongst them are these charming and impressive (awesome, really) miniature replicas of two rooms in art collector and ardent supporter of artists Paul Guillaume's Paris apartment. You can see he really liked Modigliani. In fact, the artist painted Guillaume's portrait in 1915 and according to this model, he displayed it in his study - you can see it in the far right top corner:

 

Amedeo Modigliani. Paul Guillaume, Novo Pilota. 1915

These models on are display in the lower level at Musée de l'Orangerie in Paris which is famous for its series of Monet's Water Lilies paintings, housed above in two rooms:

Back to the apartment - this is Paul Guillaume's dining room, complete with hallways where more of his collection was hung (you wouldn't want to drink too much wine at one of his dinner parties and stumble into a wall - emBARRassing!):

To give you an idea of the scale:

She was beginning to turn into a werewolf, starting with her hand.

This is the room where these models were displayed, it was on the right wall. As for what this room was, I didn't catch it. But it would make sense if it were a full-size (obviously) replica of another room - complete with the actual original paintings - of Guillaume's. It could be called 'the one with no Modigliani'.

And a few curiosities I found in the other galleries downstairs, first Coco and her pup (the artist liked to paint ladies with their dogs):

I just really love these Matisse paintings:

And finally, Maurice Ultrillo's La Maison Bernot, which must mean 'House of the Big Asses' - look at how he painted the ladies' derrieres:

We know what he liked.

Castles, Grand Staircases and Treehouse Restaurants

Baby Swelle gazing at the sea

My parents came to visit for the holidays and despite our thorough and unrelenting dumping of snow, a true rarity in England, we managed to get out and see some things. It was their first time here so we wanted to give them a good sense of what our neck of the north east offers. 

As a Christmas gift me and my brothers gave them a night at The Grand, a 19th century hotel in our neighbourhood overlooking the North Sea. I was completely taken with the staircase which was grand indeed:

The side view from the room:

I couldn't stop taking pictures of the lamps in the room with my dad's camera. It all looked so film noir. I'm sure he's at home now looking at all of them thinking I've lost my mind. I...love...lamp.

Baby Swelle being shy. I bought her those boots for Christmas and wish I could get some in my size. She's wearing the black tuxedo jacket from Stella McCartney x Baby Gap. A friend was kind enough to pick one up for us in Toronto and send it over. No, I didn't try to get it on. There's not a chance in hell it would fit but I did hear that people were selling the XXL on Ebay for a mint and they were being snatched up. Sillies.

The Victorian restaurant where we had dinner:

 

We were on our way to Edinburgh, a city I absolutely adore and couldn't wait to show my parents, but we had to turn back because of the snow. THE SNOW! Since when do plans get cancelled in England because of the snow! Bad, bad luck. But we salvaged the day by stopping in Alnwick on the way back and having a fantastic lunch at the enormously charming Treehouse restaurant in Alnick Gardens:

Those things that look like wooden stalagmites are the backs of the chairs:

 

The fountains, which are amazing in the summer but still beautiful in winter. I just missed all of the them being on and caught the last one just going down:

Obviously, this wasn't taken during our trip! It's not my photo either and I've lost the credit so if it's yours please let me know! It's one of the foot bridges at the treehouse:

And I just had to show Alnwick castle. I'll get into the history of the whole grounds later when I visit again in summer (last time we'd just moved and I had no idea where my camera was) but it's such a breathtaking scene. It's only open from April to October so there were no opportunities to see it all snow covered:

Happy New Year! London's Awesome Fireworks Show

Happy New Year! My New Years Eve here in England was a quiet one, my parents are visiting from Canada and I have a nasty cold so me and Mr. Swelle stayed in and we all ate lots of hors d'oevre-y type nibblies but had to forego the bubbly chilling in the fridge so it didn't clash with the Lemsip Max cold and flu caps me and my mother were eating. Oh yeah, I was livin' it up. We tuned in to the BBC at midnight and watched what was the most awesome fireworks display I've ever seen - London's pyrotechnic show on the Thames, with the London Eye at the centre. If I had been there in person I think my wide open mouth would have been frozen like this.

Here's the BBC video of the event. Everyone is reporting it was seven and a half minutes long which is odd, especially as it went to past 12:10 according to our clocks and the video is over 11 minutes long. The sustained intensity was just so exciting to watch, though the broadcast itself was shot straight on and I think I preferred that. The 'design' of the show is the work of 'firework prodigy' Christophe Berthonneau, a French pyrotechnician. That's one career we don't really consider when we're growing up, do we? I think school guidance counselors should encourage that more. If only I'd known.

Enjoy! ♥

Update: Oh, I'm such a dink! Reader Lauren pointed out this is last year's display. Well, that explains why it's longer and why the colours were different! Hey, I told you my head was full of mucous! Ugh. But really, when they say New Year's Eve 2009, they shouldn't be talking about New Year's Eve 2008! So here's what I really saw, but I haven't been able to watch it yet, it's probably getting too many hits. Enjoy the real one!

Ha, that's my first cock-up of the new year and it has been documented for all the world to see!

(Email subscribers - you have to click the title of this post to see the video!)

Noughties Retrospective: The Best of Haute Couture, Pt. 1 - Chanel 2001

It only dawned on me a few weeks ago that we're coming to the end of a decade, those consecutive 10 years that are supposed to be marked by some common thread and fascinating highs and lows. Seems like such an obvious thing but sometimes I don't see the big picture, I'm too busy dissecting the minutiae of the things around me. What that common thread may be, I have no idea yet. Well, actually I did come up with something about how the internet/blogging/social media has revolutionised communication and created previously unattainable opportunities for us keyboard jockeys, but after a long paragraph on the subject I bored myself nearly to tears and so deleted it. I can see you nodding your head in agreement. And anyway, you can read that kind of thing a million other places and it will be a far better read.

Besides, what I really wanted to look at from the past decade - the 'noughties' - is the haute couture collections. The expert craftsmanship from the ateliers of Lesage, Lemarie, Michel, Desrues and Massaro - and the independent designers whose contributions go uncredited - are instrumental in making the creations of our biggest and best fashion houses the exquisite and extraordinary works of art that get our hearts all a flutter. It's the details that I live for and nothing gives the goods like haute couture.

Since documentation of the shows from 2000 are proving to be elusive I'm starting with 2001. And the first is Chanel. Throughout the past decade the beloved Paris fashion house continued to operate as a private entity owned by the Wertheimer family which means they warded off LVMH, Gucci Group, Richemont and Prada (though whether there was actually movement on that front I have no idea). Good for them, good for us.

I took screencaps from grainy video for both the winter and summer collections, it really was all I could find, and the summer is far better looking than the winter. The caps are far from crisp but I think it worked in the summer show with its dusty blue background - the images look rather painterly. I concentrated on the details such as the lushness of the textures all mixed together and of course, the accessories. And it was fun seeing the faces from 2001, the models who are mostly retired now except for Carmen Kass who has found a rare longevity in her runway career - or maybe it's mostly a willingness to get out there again and again?

The hair for winter was very Desperately Seeking Susan with the scrunchy bobs and bow hairbands, though I'm quite certain it wasn't a direct reference to the Madonna movie. I mean, come on.

 

At first I thought the summer show was held in one of the oval rooms of Musée de l'Orangerie in Paris where many of Monet's water lilies paintings are displayed - this was before the Grand Palais became the Chanel venue of choice - but the pillars that appear behind the seats don't exist, at least not in the renovated version I visited earlier this year. Anyone?

 

 

 

 

 

New at Ladurée: Christmas, Bébé and Marni!

This is the post I lost last night, and I can't bear to try to recall what I wrote (somehow spontaneous combustion got a mention and I just can't retrace that bizarre train of thought). So why don't I just tell you about the newest divine treats are on offer at Ladurée? A collaboration with Marni (one of my faves) has produced two limited edition boxes - one macarons, one chocolat - reflecting the Italian brand's signature circle prints, this version being golden cut-outs finished with a pretty flower. The macarons appear to have some gold flecks in them, but the Ladurée website doesn't describe the specifics of the goodies (they know we might drool on our keyboards and risk electrocution).

They've also done a mini collection pour Bébé of satin-trimmed bibs that are far too good for barfing on and some silky satchels, maybe for Bébé's first macaron?

 

And they've published another book of dessert porn called Sucré by Ladurée's Chief Pastry Chef. It's 100 of their most decadent recipes, adapted for the general public = we're not giving away ALL of our secrets and/or you couldn't handle it anyway. Now, I swore at one time you could order from the site, but just not the macarons. Whatever my flawed memory is telling me, I don't see any way to now. And that's just not fair. But one day, if you haven't already, you must go to Paris and have lunch at the Champs Elysées restaurant followed by a macaron cocktail at their bar that God built (see the previous post). I could barely finish mine - it was really strong - but at 22 euros I sure wasn't wasting it!

To be Three and in Paris...

Well, today became a wash-out for writing, but I hate to go to bed without having posted something. I wanted a happy image, and this one of my daughter running around a courtyard behind Rue St-Honoré when we lived in Paris earlier this year does the trick. She's four years old now but was three then, and in between tearing around this open space she was thrilled to have found, she became intrigued with all of the pretty, colourful baubles and bags in the window of a couture accessories boutique. While trying to get a better look she pressed her face up against the window and left a nose and hand prints on it. Oops. Où est le tissu?

After this was taken we sat on a step and tucked into some macarons from a chocolatier we'd just visited, one I hadn't come across before which was quite likely the poshest place I've ever seen to sell sweets, even by Paris standards. Not Ladurée (more girlie, romantic heaven than posh) and not Pierre Hermé (although quite similar with its minimal but warm interior of rich woods - both felt formal), I just can't recall. And if I can't remember the name of the place I bought macarons, they couldn't have been as good as the aforementioned. Because To Die For macarons I never forget!

I've shown this before, Pierre Hermé macarons on the steps of a church on Rue Cambon, but I can't resist the urge to bring it out again:

Here are more Paris photos if you haven't had your fill.

Alexis Mabille's Couture Christmas Log

How delicious does this look? Alexis Mabille has partnered with Angelina, the Paris tearoom that serves what could be the world's best hot chocolate (and yet people will still go to Starbucks, and don't even get me started on the presence of Haagen-Dazs when Berthillon ice cream is plentiful and must one of the planet's most heavenly creations! This must be blamed on the tourists who only want what's at home when they travel abroad!). Where was I? Oh yes, so Alexis Mabille and Angelina's head pastry chef put their talented heads and hands together to make this limited edition Christmas log with a quilted surface dusted in cocoa, silver bow and edible studs. It will be unveiled at the cafe tonight and will be available to order from Angelina Dec. 21 - 26. I can't imagine how much it costs. But I bet it's worth it.

If you had to be the first to cut into it, could you?

New Look! And I'm Not Talking About Christian Dior or the High Street

I really liked the look of my blog after several reincarnations of the (very) modest first version, but I found myself looking longingly at others which filled up the entire screen; they just seemed somewhat 'grander'. I always saw The Swelle Life as a bit more up close and personal but the blog is all about gorgeous imagery and I hated being restricted to 500 pixels for presentation. So I thought I'd try out the larger format and I LIKED IT. This fluid width works for me and I hope it works for you. It may take some getting used to. When I first noticed the onset of huge blog pages I was a bit taken aback, they seemed a bit 'in your face.' But now I want it all in my face. Funny how blog looks are like fashion trends. What you once thought wasn't you at all, like harem pants, you may one day find yourself trying on. Though I still don't own a pair of harem pants.

So what does the photo of Montmartre above have to do with any of this? Nothing, except that it's one of my favourite photos that I took while living in Paris and now I have many extra pixels to play with!

Comments welcome. Constructive criticism accepted. Just be gentle. 

Passing the Time with Pretty, Dead Roses

When I arrived in Paris the other week I went straight to Xuan-Thu Nguyen's atelier and boutique in the Marais to pick up my invitation to her couture show. There was such an excitement in the air on the eve before her collection and it was the perfect welcome back to Paris. The BBC was there filming an interview, photographers were shooting a model walking in one of the looks - a most exquisite pair of nubby black trousers with a jacket that I will soon show - and an embroiderer and a knitter had come up from the busy atelier downstairs to complete the last of the pieces. There was a palpable intensity in the air as there was still so much to do, yet everyone who had a stake in the following day's event offered a smile and a 'Bonsoir' and Thu herself - stressed to the gills - was as sweet and hospitable as ever as my excitement about the collection nearly bubbled over into some kind of embarrassing mess.

As I waited to speak with Thu I was occupied with, or rather fixated on, these gorgeous roses in glass bottles that were scattered on the floor in her front window around the base of an installation that Thu later explained had been on display in a gallery in the Louvre. The roses were dead; the yellows had faded and the edges browned while the lilacs and purples were still saturated with colour, and the combined effect was romantic and lovely. I took pictures of this calm little haven when I felt I wouldn't be interfering with the goings-on by doing so. Thu told me almost apologetically that the flowers were alive when they were brought in but I thought the look was intended. Without seeing them alive I thought I most certainly preferred them dead. The same doesn't work for food, though. I forgot about a slice of brie in the fridge once and I'd for sure say it was better when it was new.