The Swelle Life

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. 

 

A Decorated House is a Happy House

Tonight I found another artist who loves Paris as much as I do (I'm referring to Fifi Flowers as the first, and I have a hunch there may even be more!). Donna Courtney of The Decorated House creates collages that completely satisfy the lust for romantic and hazy French antiquity and delivers it nice and compact so we can clutter our walls with the (seemingly) time-yellowed aqua and pink-hued delineations with the reckless abandon of Marie Antoinette.

 

The French writing that is featured in the first collage is from a note Donna found in a French book dating back to 1808. It's details like these that transform a piece of paper into a much-loved treasure.

 

Donna also creates mixed media pieces using found objects such as beautifully aged skeleton keys, old crocheted lace, metal birds, all of which are meticulously finished to look and feel like a piece of antique art:

 

 

Le sigh...

La Joie de Vivre, Fifi Flowers-style

Parisienne Party Dress. Fifi Flowers

Just about everybody who has been to Paris has fallen in love with it. And the rest are likely just as smitten with the notion that lives within their imagination thanks to photographs and paintings that illustrate the best of what one of the most romantic and beautiful cities in the world has to offer.

The paintings from Fifi Flowers convey the playfulness, guilt-free indulgence and unapologetic passion that lives in the heart of Paris, its interiors and its people. How is it that simple lines and a vibrant colour palette can imbue the kinds of qualities that leave us hopelessly besotted? The answer lies in the heart, the hand and the eye of the artist who, who when I first saw her paintings, had me feeling the emotional equivalent of a wet puppy just out of the bath madly tearing around the house.

Red Bench Entry. Fifi Flowers

Fifi paints homages to other great cities as well and takes commissions where she works from your travel photographs or pictures of your house or business or even your pets, and makes them Fifi-esque. And she appears to be endlessly enamoured by flowers and beautiful interiors which are my favourite paintings of hers as I share the same longing to be surrounded by gorgeous and happy things.

And then she takes it even further. The saying goes "the home is where the heart is," and the ultimate home surely reflects those details we consider the key to a blissful existence. So it's only fitting that Fifi also provides an online decorating service which is as simple as sending her photos of the room you want to decorate. She then works within your budget to create colour renderings and floor plans of your new look, and provides photos of the items she envisions for your room and where to buy them.

 

Pink Mirror. Fifi Flowers

I wanted to know more about the Los Angeles-based artist and decorator so I delved a bit further into who is Fifi:

One can't help but notice that Paris figures prominently in your paintings; is it your favourite city/subject?

Paris...French things are a favourite of mine, for sure!! I studied French art and the Parisian art lifestyle while I was in art school. Once I graduated I went to Paris for a week, walked the streets and felt overwhelmed knowing I was where some of my favourite artists hung out. EXCITING!! I have yet to return, but the memories are still in my heart. I hope to return next year!

Your lively painting style conveys a fun and happy energy; who or what was it that inspired you to paint this way? 

What inspired me to paint in the first place was the LOVE of art. My favourite artist is Henri Matisse. I wanted a painting in my home by him. Of course I cannot afford an original so I painted reproductions of his work. I have six or seven Matisse reproductions by moi hanging in my home. I enjoyed painting so much that I started painting my own paintings of things that surround my daily life. I LOVE colour and FUN, so that is what reflects in my paintings.

You also decorate home interiors. Do you seek to re-create the kind of aesthetic that you like to capture in your paintings or will you work in any style?

I do decorate homes and offices and I try to consider each individual in the home and the clients that will be in the office. I will not be living in the houses so they really MUST reflect the inhabitants of the dwelling. Everyone is so different with unique needs and wants. However, I do like to incorporate a painting in each project I work on and they are also to their taste. These days I do very little interior decorating because I am so busy working on my paintings or painting commissions, but I do some online decorating. 

swelle.

 

Berry Cushions and Wine. Fifi Flowers.

 

Fifi's Happy Studio. Fifi Flowers

 

Cafe de France. Fifi Flowers

After spending a total of 10 weeks in Paris thus far I have to say that what is so wonderful about the city is that once experiencing it in person, it lives up to the expectations conjured during daydreams and then some (though sufferers of Paris syndrome - a bizarre reaction to disappointment once arriving in Paris that affects some Japanese tourists who require medical attention and counselling - would surely disagree!). So, to be able to put up a painting that captures the spirit of the city, whether it be a street scene or a turquoise chaise longe and look at it daily is a real treat. For my new house I'm now trying to decide which pieces of Fifi's collection will make me happiest; though that's a tough one - I find myself smiling ear to ear every time I browse her gallery. Vrai bonheur.

 

Pink Commode. Fifi Flowers

Geeking Out at Chanel

Sasha Pivovarova with Karmen Pedaru

Earlier this week I was in Paris to attend what was supposed to be two couture shows: Xuan-Thu Nguyen and Alexandre Matthieu. Then I was bumped from the latter by Vogue Italia! I was one of the last confirmed and they made requests after the list was closed and therefore I became the sacrificial lamb. I was disappointed because I really admire the beautiful work of Alexandre Morgando and Matthieu Bureau and this was the first time they were invited to show during haute couture week. However, their people were very apologetic and asked for my understanding. And uh, yeah, I think I can understand why Vogue might have won out there. Turns out I wouldn't have made the show anyway, I got in to Paris too late, so I was saved the frustration of missing it.

Xuan-Thu Nguyen's superb collection deserves a post of its own so this one is about what I saw afterward, outside the Chanel show at Grand Palais. And this is where the geekery comes in. I couldn't care less about celebrities (although I'd love to see Vanessa Paradis who really is more than a celebrity). Haute couture favours the socialites who are the ones who buy from the collection and fashion editors and other big players in the industry, and it's those influential people I'm most interested in. Socialites slide right off my brain, however, but I was looking forward to seeing Daphne Guinness who must have been there but I didn't see her (and she's so much more than a socialite, it must be noted). Her cousin Jasmine was and she looked fantastic with her red lips, red belt and red seamed stockings (she never goes out without something red). And she paused for a photo when she saw me light up at noticing her but the shot blurred. (Ed note: this was before I had my beloved Nikon D-7000.)

It rained while sunny and we got a rainbow over the Petit Palais across the street!

 

Before that, the same thing happened but with Mario Testino. I nearly died. He saw me gasp (I couldn't help it) and stood right in front of me, looked me in the eye and smiled. My heart was racing and my fingers were so shaky that the photo came out completely blurred. But I'm keeping it because you can still see that he was smiling. And what a smile it was. He's quite tall, too. He has a very charismatic presence.

And then it was like my fairy godmother granted all my wishes at once with a parade of style icons, editors, the models from the show and the most gorgeous Chanel haute couture dresses. One young socialite who couldn't have been more than 17 years old was wearing the most exquisitely detailed dress with lace and tulle and camelias which I believe is from the current collection.

The Queen of fashion journalism: Suzy Menkes and her famous quiff.

I was so excited to see Suzy Menkes, then I turned around and Carine Roitfeld, Editor in Chief of French Vogue was right in front of me in a stunningly tailored black jacket with silk satin lapels, and I happened to catch the split second where she smiled. I was expecting Balmain shoulders but she's already done that. Next.

Carine Roitfeld

And to top it off, there was Anna Piaggi looking as no one but Anna Piaggi could. And no one was taking her photo but me! How can you not photograph Anna Piaggi? She was whisked away in a waiting car, which was a Vogue car. Yes, it had 'Vogue' painted on the side. Speaking of Vogue, Vogue Italia's editor-in-chief Franca Sozzani went unnoticed as well. I didn't take a photo because silly me didn't want to appear ravenous like some others out of respect (I must have confused a major fashion event with a funeral). But then the subjects became far too tempting and I remembered that I do write a fashion blog. And they are surely used to being photographed by now!

78 year-old Anna Piaggi. A legend.

And this woman below was something else, she was wearing a sheer dress with nothing underneath on top and had a much younger and very dapper man on her arm. She hammed it up, flashing some leg and dancing around and then she changd her shoes with the help of her date who replaced her heels with ratty flip flops! Awesome.

And now, the models. When Sasha Pivovarova appeared, my favourite of the last few years and the one who filled the void Gemma Ward left but in her own way - people went absolutely apeshit. Imagine this, gasped in the most over-the-top male 'fashion' voice: "She's FANTASTIC!" Gasp. Moan. Gasp. "She's THE BEST!" More gasping and shaking of the head with mouth agape. And a little bit of drool. She was in FULL model mode and with that Chanel cap (see the header photo), the hip-skimming multi-strands a la Coco and her attitude ,she gave everyone exactly what they wanted. Her intensity is really quite surreal. Her signature 'psychotic episode' stare is a force of nature, yet for that brief moment I wasn't sure what was in front of me was actually human. Here's an example if Sasha is new to you:

More girls who just can't help being 'modelly' when off the clock:

She whipped out the cigarette and began smoking in one
fluid, overly-dramatic motion. She still reeked of tobacco, though.


I love this photo, they are still in model mode from the show and every movement seems camera-worthy. Yulia, Tara Jean and I can't tell who is on the left (many do look the same!). Just about everyone but Yulia and Elsa walked out in their wingy eyeliner, the look from the show.


Lara Stone. Her gift bag was bigger than that of a lot of the other models.

Remember, she's considered the 'normal-sized' girl':

Baptiste Giabiconi, who appears in every Chanel show and is Karl Lagerfeld's longtime muse. Apologies to him for the laser eyes.


Elsa Sylvan. She walked out eating a sandwich, likely in response to rumours about her weight.


Magdalena. Stunning.


Shu Pei Qin. I cannot begin to describe just how gorgeous she is in person. Especially when she smiles. She's so tall and she presented as the most impressive out of all the models.

Oh, and I finally got to sit in Ladurée's dreamy bar and have my macaron cocktail. I went for the cassis. And it was only 22 euros! Seriously, it was, but I had to do it once. It was strong, as in alcohol, and that cream at the top while at first seems more fresh and milky than rich and creamy, is deceptive. I got so full that halfway through I had to stop. Maybe I should have had it before I had lunch upstairs. I didn't know how I was going to finish it, but despite feeling very uncomfortable I persevered - it cost 22 euros after all!

I finished all but a couple of sips. As I ventured out on Champs Elysees I thought at one moment I might throw up right there on the street. And if I had, do you know what my next words would have been? "I REGRET NOTHING!"

Xuan-Thu Nguyen's Blooming, Foxy Haute Couture

I've taken a bit long to follow-up my interview with Xuan-Thu Nguyen with looks from her haute couture show in January, but the timing is just right as I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow to attend her Fall/Winter haute couture show on Tuesday (and yes, I'm stupid with excitement) and this makes for a nice teaser/prelude.

If you read the interview you know what makes Thu's garments so special is the detail, which goes beyond simple embellishment. Many of the looks she sent down the runway for her spring/summer show began as one thing and transformed into another - specifically, jackets and dresses that bloomed when unsnapped. And then there's the fox stole made entirely of flowers:

When I think of haute couture I think of exquisite detail upon exquisite detail, a piece of clothing that at first glance blurs the eyes and leaves you compelled to stare in the hopes of unravelling the glorious chaos. Xuan-Thu Nguyen delivers this with an undeniable joy.

These colours combined with the various smocking techniques
and those strippy bows is just delicious





 


A 'fox' capelet


I love how the shoes give a hint as to what's
hidden beneath the snaps of the dress (header photo)


Notice the subtle embroidery on the top.
The print on that skirt is a dream.


What a stunner. Both the front and back offer something
beautiful and unique with the elegant ruching and those
strips that are somehow chaotic and sublime at once:

 

Here's the video of the show where you can see some of the detail a bit better and watch the clothes transform:

When I visited Thu's boutique in the Marais in April I got to see her couture necklaces which look fun at first glance but they are much more than that. They take four days to make - each 'bead', like an exquisite ball of twine, is created by hand and the technique is the designer's secret. In fact, a major retail chain copied Thu's design but made them cheaply and no surprise, they fell apart and had to be recalled after a week. H. and. M.

The metallic fibres and the thick, wooly yarn each offer their own
wonderful texture, and they feel lovely on

Little fabric dolls that are fun as brooches


Those shoes - the ones I love so much I asked Thu
if I could use them for my banner!




A jacket with exquisite broderie anglaise

I'll report back fromt the show Tuesday night, hopefully with some good photos! Bisous!

What I Saw On a Stroll One Night in Paris

I wanted to call this post simply One Night in Paris but someone ruined that for me. These photos are what we saw along the way when we walked from our flat in the Latin Quarter down to Rue Mouffetard one evening in April. It was light when we headed out:

The Pantheon


Detail of the Pantheon


I, uh, don't know


The steeple of I don't know

The street off Rue Mouffetard where we ate

Down a bit we found some street art by Jef Aerosol, with random scribbles by the less inspired who likely just stopped to take a whiz and happened to find a black Sharpie in their pocket:

If you're familiar with automatic writing and/or a fan of André Breton and Surrealism you may be interested in the Hotel des Grands Hommes. Breton lived there and created surrealist automatic writing with Philipe Soupault. There they wrote Les Champs Magnetiques, Surrealism's first literary work. (I can't not mention this - when I first wrote 'automatic writing' I actually wrote 'automatic thinking' which is making me laugh because it seems to be a process that eludes me as of late!)

I'm not really sure why it says 1919-1989 since the hotel is obviously still there.
Or is my lack of capacity for automatic thinking causing me to miss something?

Heaven is Macaron Cocktails at Ladurée

I was going to post my photos of the bar at the Champs Elysées Ladurée - the epitome of the French/macaron/pastry/girlie experience - but they came out slightly blurry because I was trying to sneak them. It just seemed too gauche to take pictures in such a breathtaking wonderland of sugary delights. So instead I give your theirs; it's what the bar in heaven must look like. I was standing right at the door when the bar opened, queuing to get some macarons at the shop and lamenting the wait time for the cafe (I made up for it a few days later when a friend came to visit) and my eyes nearly fell out when I looked into the room. And guess what they serve there? Macaron cocktails!

I am going to be in Paris in a couple weeks, alone. I am not averse to going for a drink by myself if it means having a macaron cocktail. But what if I want a second? Does that border on rather sad? Maybe if I drink four or five I won't care about appearances. Actually, that's a given.

Let's not stop there. There's too much Ladurée dreaminess to share:

One of the rooms upstairs at the Champs Elysées location


I had the Saint Honoré fraise and pistache and nearly died.


Ladurée Bonapart


Ladurée Bonapart

The spring/summer collection for packaging

Ladurée at Harrods in London






Ladurée Lausanne

Oh, why did I do that to myself as I'm about to eat a cheeseburger...

C'est Magnifique: Bijoux Art Déco et Avant-garde

Jean Després. Bague, 1937
© Les Arts Décoratifs, photo Jean Tholance

Paris always has the good stuff going on and at this moment the Bijoux Art déco et Avant-garde exhibit is on at Les Arts Décoratifs, which is part of the massive building that houses the Louvre. This had already begun when the Sonia Rykiel exhibit was running but thanks to a fickle companion I was only able to take a quick browse of what may be the coolest collection of jewellery on the planet. Luckily, these fantastic photos reveal the trademark details of the most significant art deco jewellery to come out of Paris in the decades that bore the style - the 1920s and 1930s. The exhibit features the work of many great names in French jewellery from the decade, with a focus on jeweller and precious metalsmith Jean Després.

The show closes July 12 so if you're in Paris it's worth a pop-in. The website seems to indicate you need advance tickets but you can buy them on the day; however, having a ticket will allow you to bypass the queue which may come in handy in July - who wants to stand in line with sweaty tourists? (It's always them, never you. That's what I tell myself, anyway.)

 

Raymond Templier. Cigarette case, 1930. Paris.

Raymond Templier.Broche, Paris. 1929

Gérard Sandoz. Bague demi-globe, Paris. 1928



Jean Fouquet. Bbroche, Paris. 1925


Jean Després. Pendentif-broche, 1932


Suzanne Belperron, Maison Bernard Herz. Bracelet, Paris. 1934

The Lady Noir Affair

Film seems to be the new medium for selling luxury goods these days and the latest is a series for Lady Dior handbags 'starring' Marion Cotillard. It begins with Chapter 1, The Lady Noir Affair. I don't really care what it's selling or what the story line is (they're all a bit goofy in their fashion à propos OTT style), I just like the look of it (deja vu from yesterday?). John Galliano co-art directed this 1940s-styled short film noire and of course is responsible for Cotillard's femme fatale look.

When she was going through her bag I couldn't help but think of that maxi-pad commercial from the 90s (I saw it in Canada, maybe it ran in the US too?) where the idea of concealing them in individual packages in your purse was introduced in a (bad) spoof of an international spy film where they were confused with clandestine information and referred to as "zee microfeelm'.

Sorry, John and Marion. I can't help the awful things that are forever etched in my brain. 

My reason for posting about this: scenes from around Paris and the interiors are drenched in art deco furnishings. This is how I imagine heaven is decorated:

 

 

Thanks to Reanna at Reanna Time for the heads up about the film!

 

 

Bonjour, Spring Flowers

To celebrate one full day of clear blue skies and sun in the northeast of England and what so far promises to be a second one (but you never do know here, and it's only 8 a.m.) I thought I'd do a pretty post featuring flowers from Paris. I've got that renewed feeling I haven't felt since our glorious springtime there in April (the first time since I was a teenager, I think, where spring's arrival actually agreed with the calendar).

There's a bed of tulips in Jardin du Luxembourg (above) of white, deep wine and pink which make a gorgeous colour combination. Luckily they were right next to the path, had they been in the middle of the grass I wouldn't have been able to see them up close - you get yelled at if you dare step on the grass. I couldn't stop taking pictures.

I was so thrilled when I finally discovered double peonies, my most favourite flower which I've never had the pleasure of admiring in my own home. They were in the florist right next to our building the entire time, and I found them just two days before we left Paris. I saw this beautiful bouquet sitting in a vase and asked the florist if it was for sale or if she had more peonies to sell. She didn't, and she was going to take this home for herself because it only had a couple days left (and she loved the sight of it) but she gave it to me for 10 euro. I was so giddy the man who was waiting his turn behind us must have thought I'd never seen flowers before.The red flowers are a kind of rose I didn't catch the name of, they are a kind of deep cherry red with pale pink stripes. The peonies are from the south of France and precede their usual bloom by a season - they are summer flowers. I took this photo in the private enclosure we had off our flat.

The blossoming bushes along the pathway at Jardin du Luxembourg:

Stunning lilac roses in the florist, something I've never seen before:

I can't recall the name of these but I was so taken with them, and they were all over Paris. I saw them at the Cacharel showroom and the Omela presentation.

And in flame shades:

These were also piaget roses from the south of France, which must be the most wonderfully scented flower in existence - like sweet perfume. The florist had me smell them and they were incredible. They were pure essence, no underlying 'plant' smell. If you ever have a chance to smell them, take advantage.

I like the blur of this photo, this tiny blossoming tree appears to be floating:

Just some pretty flower beds by some residences:

I can't get enough of those blossoming trees, one day I will have a house surrounded by them:

My Montmartre Pt. 2

Continuing on with yesterday's post about Montmartre, I remembered that we decided to take one of the many portrait artists roaming the Basilica of Sacré-Cœur up on their offer to sketch our daughter. What I didn't realise at the time, but makes perfect sense after the fact of course, is that the talented artists are all in the market, set up with their easels and samples of their work on display, and those who maybe aren't so gifted are kind of randomly walking about hoping to make a few euro drawing you, your friend or your family.

We sat in the park for a bit overlooking the city eating gelato (I had the grapefruit, the best flavour I've tried), after first saying 'Non, merci' to everyone who approached, and then it occurred to me that our mothers would love a portrait of our daughter. The last 'artist' that approached us was only charging 5 euro, but how bad could it be? Well, have you seen Napolean Dynamite? Specifically the scene where Trisha, the girl Napolean is planning to take to the dance opens the drawing he has given her to reveal a most hideous tribute to her beauty?

Maybe it wasn't quite that bad, but it wasn't far off. Actually, in some ways it was worse. Instead of looking the three years old that she is, she looked 20, and the woman drew all of these music notes around her head which I'm pretty sure weren't really there.

Oh well, what's travel without a good story?

Want to see more Montmarte? Cliquez ici

 

My Montmartre Pt. 1

This is a bit torturous for me but I still have great Paris pics to share so with tears and a runny nose I show you a bit of Montmarte - that distinctly unique 130 metre high hill in the north of Paris (a guaranteed hamstring and glutes work out) and artist community where Dali, Monet and Picasso, among others, had studios. Also, most of Amélie was filmed there.

This precious woman above was the 'dancer' for this band of New Orleans jazz musicians (Montmarte attracts creative types from all over) and she was so sweet and endearing we had to take photos. My friend Sophie joked she was their groupie. I swiftly slapped her across the face.

This is (a small part of) the view from the foot of Basilica of Sacré-Cœur:









 

 

Pt. 2 coming...(I am craving French pastries so badly right now it hurts)

A Visit to Coco's House

I still have loads of photos from Paris and I'm bringing them out here and there. These are from my visit to the original Chanel boutique on Rue Cambon (just before eating the macarons). They were promoting their sunglasses, in case that wasn't obvious. Lunettes. I love the one with the kid flying by on his skateboard. Nice juxtoposition with the valet/greeter/security/polite intimidator.

Les Mémoires de Macarons Magnifique

This is one of my favourite photos from Paris. I sat perched with my daughter on the steps of a church on Rue Cambon after going to the original Chanel boutique where Coco once lived, and we shared a box of the best macarons, hands down, in Paris. I love Ladurée (more on them soon) but those from Pierre Hermé, also on Rue Cambon, are the most exquisite tasting little treats, they have a complexity of flavours that are so fresh it's as if they were made just minutes before. I miss them terribly!

Dream and Awake Exhibits in Paris

I wanted to get the news out for anyone in Paris or visiting between now and May 10 that dreamandawake is having an exhibition. I'm thrilled they introduced themselves to me and I'm now trying to find out more about them, I am intrigued (and hugely disappointed that I missed this by two weeks). But for now it's enough to know that they take 'dresses of yesterday' from around the world and redesign them for today, and their photos are like works of art, conveying the feel of the clothes as a hazy, dream-like old memory. Let us know if you're lucky enough to visit them in Paris?

Click image for their website

Toi, tu me plais, Garance Doré

 

My last days of my (heartachingly good) two-month stay in Paris could not have wrapped up more perfectly, for I had the genuine pleasure of interviewing Garance Doré. For many, the Paris-based blogger extraordinaire needs no introduction, and if you don't know the beloved photographer, illustrator and storyteller who can transform a monitor into a wonderful, fashion dreamworld that feels both fantastical and attainable all at once, today is your lucky day.

Garance is such a delight, she speaks so freely about her life and her work as you would expect from her diary-like blog posts. And she embodies exactly those qualities that compose the quintessential French woman whom I so adore: confident, clever, chic, gifted, gorgeous. (I could go on but it would cross over to sycophantic and embarrass everyone involved.)

Here is the story of how Garance turned a blog into a jetsetting career documenting fashion as it happens around the world:

How did this all start for you?

I never studied art, I studied communications. I started as a PR for cinema in the south of France. I liked it; I went to Cannes for the film festival. After a few years I felt the artistic part wasn't being used. But I was young and I knew it wouldn't be a risk to try. I trained myself and took my book to some art directors. But the job was different, I found myself at home so much, there were no people. I was frustrated having to stay home and the commissions were not that interesting. So this is why I opened my blog, to open a conversation about that. I realised I also liked to write. I was the first in France to talk about fashion and illustration this way. I did that for a while but fashion goes with photography, so I picked up my camera. I never thought years ago this would be big, it was just something I thought was different.

And now you're famous. How do you feel about that?

Yes, well because of my boyfriend, Scott, the press photographs me and sometimes I'm even recognised in the street in New York. I don't really show myself on my blog. (Ed. note: The photo above is Garance, as shot by Scott Schuman, 'The Sartorialist'. And yes, they are a couple. A fashion match made in heaven.)

Do you have a favourite city for capturing people?

I really love Paris and New York but no, each time I move somewhere it gives me inspiration. It's difficult the first day because you don't know the light. But then you see the romance of the city.

At a Paris fashion week show I witnessed a very well dressed photographer endure a horribly rude dismissal when he asked a man, someone unknown, if he could photograph him. Do you ever find yourself confronted with an unwilling subject?

It never happens. Usually I can feel when not to ask.

Your illustrations are so simple yet they convey vitality, playfulness and beauty. Has your style remained relatively constant or has it evolved over the years?

It's evolved a lot and evolving more every day,  I try to get more simple, convey emotions. I like to evolve all the time, it's still me. I think it's good when illustrators keep their style but for me I like it to change.

Do you use a model or a photograph when you sketch? 

I just draw instinctively, I don't rely on something. Maybe I should use something.

No! What I love about your illustrations or your 'girls' as I call them is they aren't recognisable, they are characters that you have created. Do you ever find yourself designing when you 'dress' your girls?

Yes, usually I like to dress them with clothes I like, usually they are things I want or admire. It's a way for me to show clothes, it's like an homage to those who make clothes. I've had proposals to design clothes, maybe one day I will if I find the right partner.

Wow, I hope you do. Your illustrations are the perfect companion to your photographs; you have the person in the flesh and also a bit of fantasy where you can convey whatever you wish.

It's like a movement between illustrations and photography, it creates a movement.

Where do you think your career would be without the internet?

I really don't know, it opened me to a lot of new medias. I never thought I could do a picture, it gives me the opportunity to do different things and meet new people. I think it's my destiny that I fell for the internet. 

 

One of my fondest memories of my Paris adventure is a moment where I looked out the window of the bus I was on, it was stopped at a light along the Seine, and I saw the most precious woman sitting on a bench, clutching her handbag on her lap with both hands together in the most ladylike way. She was about 60 years old, with brown chin-length hair parted at the side in two pretty barrettes, bright red lipstick and a matching coat over a soft, floral dress. She was so chic and so sweet all at once, and I couldn't help but smile and she smiled back. It sounds silly but the way she smiled at me, I know she recognised what seeing her did for me and that she appreciated it. I thought 'This is Paris.'

There's something in that experience that parallels closely the reaction one feels when looking at your photographs. Can you put into words what it is you are capturing?

I think what you're capturing is a moment more than clothes, of course I feel that it's a great way to get in touch with people.

Further to my story, I had been taking photos out of the window and although I would have so cherished a photograph of this woman, I just couldn't ruin the moment by raising my camera and clicking away. Do you ever find yourself in a situation where you prefer to experience the moment away from your camera?

Yes, it happens sometimes. Once with a great fashion editor, I would have loved to take pictures, but she was opening to me and it's a question of feeling what's right or wrong.

Do you see yourself doing this for the rest of your life?

I don't know, I like what I do but I'm not closesd, I like to be open minded. I have a lot of ideas about my future but I want to do what feels right at the moment.

swelle.

And that's what it's all about, isn't it? Thanks for these moments, Garance. 

We also spoke a little about Paris and its women - Garance was interested in what it is about Paris that means so much to me and how the women stand out. It was a lovely conversation and I'm happy knowing that although I'm not in Paris anymore, I can go to garancedore.com and feel the essence of the city. No matter where in the world Garance may be, her photos, illustrations and the little peeks she offers into her day bear that most irresistable je ne sais quoi that only French women have. J'adore. 

Coco Avant Chanel: Audrey, You're Killing Me

I just got home from a matinee showing of Coco Avant Chanel, it opened today in Paris. I settled into my comfy seat in the theatre (not anywhere near) full of people on their own, like me, and took off my heavy knee-high boots, undoing all six of the buckles so I could relax.

If you didn't already know, it's a French language film. And not subtitled for showing in France, naturallement. I didn't understand much of the dialogue. All of my elementary school French classes and two attempts at improving my skills in the past six years just didn't prepare me for that most important part of learning another language - hearing it as the native tongued speak it, and thus, understanding it.

Anyway, none of that mattered. The acting was superb and it's a truly gorgeous looking film. As the title suggests it focuses on Gabrielle 'Coco' Chanel's life before she became a famous designer - specifically, her relationships with the two significant men in her life at that time. How her influences and future trend-making ideas were shaped was introduced with subtlety - a quick snip with the scissors for a crude refashioning of her performance partner's tightly corsetted costume to allow her to move more freely while dancing, admiring the society ladies' bold black and white outfits and their wearing of two or three long strings of pearls instead of the usual one, the white camellia boutonnière on her date's tuxedo lapel, her enchantment with the boatneck nautical striped shirt worn by um, some guys in the water (crap, I can't remember what they were doing) which she promptly recreated at home, and her act of going into her male friend's wardrobe and cutting up his shirts, vests and trousers for her own daily wear and to help her ride the horses with ease (he was rich, he didn't mind). I've always wondered how such a dramatic transition in dressing occurred - these were women who still wore corsets and heavy petticoats so how were they so quickly convinced to forget it all and in favour of what were deemed men's clothes?

There is a scene where Coco is wearing a man's outfit, tailored to fit, while standing next to some society ladies in bustles and hats with heavy plumage. The first time she appeared in her new look she seemed awkwardly out of place and was subject to some ridicule, but now it was the over-done ladies who were embarrassed, and soon enough the excess undergarments were shed in favour of a natural silhouette, and Coco was only too happy to lend her expertise and award them their freedom.

The film wraps up with a most stunning scene: It's Coco's first show - which took place in the original Rue Cambon boutique - and her models descend the staircase one by one in dresses and suits which could easily pass for current season today (I'm curious how accurate a reproduction this collection is though I think it must be fairly so). It's a breathtakingly shot scene that looks almost ethereal, without dialogue and only the music, the beauty of the girls in their clothes and, if you've seen film footage of Coco Chanel who was known to be stern, you'll recognise Audrey Tautou's performance as the most unnervingly accurate portrayal of the designer I think anyone could pull off. She watches the show seated on the staircase with her legs pulled in, wearing the prototypical tweed suit you see in the header photo, resting against the mirrored walls. She holds in her emotion during the ovation until she's overwhelmed with pride and out it comes, just enough to pull at our heart strings yet remain 'Coco'.

And then something happened to me. Yes, it was a wonderful film and the ending was so lovely and perfect, and some kind of an emotional reaction might be expected. But I started to cry, and I felt like I just needed to wail. Of course I didn't, and the lady who decided to sit right next to me despite 80% of the seats being empty didn't help matters.

I have been living in Paris for the past two months. And I leave tomorrow. And I don't want to. I have completely fallen in love with this city as if it were a person. The film depicted through its landscapes, interiors, and its characters the essence of French life, its people and its history, which is alive today and can be experienced by simply being in the city. It's not just in the buildings with their magnificent architecture and the museums with their masterworks, it's in the air. And I will miss it dearly.

Once I got myself together, I bent down over my knees to put on my boots and laboriously fastened the three buckles up the back of each one, and smiled to myself knowing how silly Coco would think I was for dressing in such a complicated fashion.

Leo & Pipo Take Us Through Time in Paris

Click image to enlarge

Recently during a walk around Paris I came upon street art of a duplicated image of a man from I'm guessing the 19th century, and the little figures came with the calling card "Leo & Pipo". I was intrigued and it appeared they wanted to be found, so I looked them up and there was their Myspace page.

I wanted to know who and what was behind these wonderfully unexpected images pasted up around the city (and had trouble understanding the French) so I got in touch and Leo filled me in on the project. Leo & Pipo are an artist duo who in March of 2008 first made their mark on the Parisian art scene. Using their black and white collages they attempt to modify the face of the French capital by integrating figures from another time.

Little by little they take to the various districts of Paris and invest them with mostly life-size portraits of unknown persons, injecting humanity and charm into an otherwise austere concrete wall - and ultimately, their beloved city.

Leo & Pipo see themselves as the "inventors of a time machine" who enjoy introducing a dialogue between us and these figures from a past time. In essence, they allow us "to fall into another Paris."

Magnifique, n'est-ce pas?

Images courtesy Leo & Pipo

The Joy of a Paris Change Room

Only in Paris can you walk into a changeroom to try on a Cacharel dress and find this waiting for you behind the thick velvet curtain. This boutique aptly called Joy in the Marais district of Paris had Anaïs Nin's diaries resting on the red laquered-top vanity among other original Parisian tomes and I gushed so hard when I saw it that surely the elegant shop owner must have thought I was silly, though she did create this setting to charm and charm me it did. And that's why I'm showing you four photos of a changeroom.

Anything for Erwin Blumenfeld

Have you seen this 1939 photo for Vogue by Erwin Blumenfeld? It's what the Lady Dior handbag campaign with Marion Cotillard, shot by Peter Lindbergh, was based on (I'm assuming, it seems pretty obvious).

Considering the date and how things appear, it does make you wonder "Is she really standing out there with nothing but her hand to steady her?" Photography tricks were around then but they were more about cool effects such as surrealist works than creating realistic Photoshop-type imagery.

Model Lisa Fonssagrives did in fact go above and beyond the call of duty as she whooshed her skirt out dramatically over the edge of the Eiffel Tower with nothing between her and the ground but the fresh Paris air. Erwin Blumenfeld must have been an awfully charming man.

Here are more photos from the wonderful fashion photog and filmmaker:

Love this, can't find a date


Fashion collage, circa 1950s


Menina. Silver Gelatin print, 1936


Peony


Vogue, 1945


Flowers

Pardon Monsieur, But My Dinner Smells of Merde

Sometimes sharing the story of one's misfortune helps erase the bad memories or turn them into something you can laugh at, and that is the purpose of this post. But it's not completely self-serving; it's also a cautionary tale. If you have a weak stomach or are about to eat, or just ate, you may want to skip this. (If you're still with me after reading the title then I think morbid curiosity has already got the better of you. And it's not really that bad. Some of you may even love the stuff depending where you're from.)

I've decided to tell the story on a separate page as it's long and I'm not really sure I want it on my front page! So if you want to read on you can do so here

These Aren't For Taking Into the Bathroom

I know, always with the low-brow. More great sights in windows around Paris. Who needs to actually go in shops when all of these delights are accessible from the comfort of the sidewalk where you can enjoy your Berthillon ice cream or beurre sucre crepe and appreciate the treasures of yesteryear? The window glare can be a bit of a bugger, though.

The first set of books include a few that date back to the early 1700s, some with beautiful illustrations, which were on display in a book store on rue St-Honore. The others I saw in an antique shop in the Rive Gauche area which is - if you've seen earlier posts - one of the greatest for discovering magnificent objects.

Actually, these you could probably take into the bathroom:

 

Sonia Rykiel Exhibit a Reminder of How Cool She is

I caught the Paris retrospective of Sonia Rykiel's 40-year career of changing how women dress (I think she's my new Coco), which I finally saw after my first attempt at seeing it was disrupted by my three year-old daughter who decided she would sing and play butt games where she bends over, sticks her butt out at you, wiggles it and says loudly "It's bum bum time!" and laughs hysterically. It occurred to me this may not be proper museum behaviour, not just because the song was in English but it may be considered distracting to the other patrons so I took her downstairs, handed her off to Dad with a 'good luck to you' and headed back in. (You might think I'm nuts but she's usually very well behaved and she wanted to come along to see the dresses. I had no way of knowing our visit would coincide with Bum Bum Time.)

Anyway, the exhibit features 220 of Rykiel's designs from 1968 to present, all intermingled  according to motif rather than year/era as her themes have appeared again and again throughout her career - like the poorboy sweater, black, stripes, words printed on sweaters and seams on the outside. One of her sketchbooks was on display and laminated so the pages could be browsed which was appreciated as there were others behind glass - it's fascinating to see how ideas are borne, as it is to see the style of one's illustrations. Rykiel's are quite compact and restrained and she seems to press firmly and evenly with her pencil and use concise lines, rather than a flowy kind of loose style - an interesting contrast to the 'freeing' quality that presents itself in her clothes.

A film presentation accompanied the exhibit - a Warhol interview for Warhol's TV in 1981. All in French and sadly, I had to pretend I knew what she was saying as my ear for French just isn't very good. The show footage is from the era of the first wave of supermodels - Jerry Hall and Janice Dickinson were leading the pack and doing these weird dancey moves, you know the kind of old-school runway boogie where the feet do little steps going back and forth with a lot of hip wiggle and the hands are waved about slowly and deliberately at shoulder level as if to conjure up a tray of cocktails which they would surely and quickly consume themselves.

A second part to the exhibit focusses on Rykiel's collaboration with Dominique Isserman who photographed all her publicity shots from 1979 to 1990, an impressive collection which could warrant a solo exhibit.

While watching the Sonia Rykiel interview and pretending to know what she was saying, I couldn't help but notice how thoroughly she embodies the essence of French chic. It's not about having hair just so (hers looks like Rosanne Rosannadanna's) or perfect features. It's about carrying oneself with that cool elegance and an attitude that suggests all is right in their world, regardless of what's going on - this is a woman in control. Now that's a role model. (And being rail thin and having the best clothes doesn't hurt, either.)

 

How great are the knit water wings and ring?

 

 

 

 

 

More 'How You Know You're in Paris'

A couple weeks ago while walking around L'ile Saint-Louis and having our first Berthillon ice cream (the best in Paris) this man came up to a spot on the street between two cars, set up his portable piano, took a seat (lit a smoke, of course) and began playing a lively tune. It was a charming scene and the perfect snapshot of what makes Paris so wonderful.

Tonight I walked to the Adidas SLVR store opening in Marais, an area that has some of the best boutiques in Paris (more on that later) and it was the most gorgeous night, I arrived home at 11 pm and it was still warm outside. On my way I found more shop windows that I just couldn't imagine seeing anywhere else, like this one of vintage and antique musical instruments (the first is hard to make out but I love the sepia tone and the uniformity of the clutter):

And here's what I think was a vintage/antique toy store which was just a little creepy (and I'm keeping back some of the things that were in there) but quite intriguing all the same:

Scenes From the Land of Disney

Ceiling of the Mad Hatter Teacups ride

Yesterday I went to Disneyland Paris. No, it wasn't for me, it was for the young 'un. What a wonderful, magical place of queuing 30 minutes for a 90-second ride and watching exasperated kids and parents throw tantrums. Ahhhhh.....

The washrooms were tidy, though.

Okay, it wasn't that bad. Everything I said was true, but it served its purpose and put a smile on a little girl's face. So does eating a cookie, but whatever. Good thing it ONLY COST 146 EUROS!

Here are some shots from the 'It's a Small World' ride, which could also be called the 'Acid Trip Simulator':

I still have in my head "Duff Beer for me, Duff Beer for you..."

How You Know You're in Paris

This may look like a painting but it's actually a photo I took of a small wooden staircase that I saw in the window of an antique shop in the Rive Gauche area in Paris. I just think it's so cool, it could be a motif from a Dali painting (if he had been obsessed with staircases instead of, uh, other things).

Speaking of the Surrealists, I saw this on a wall between some shops on my way to the zoo at the Museum of Natural History yesterday and it reminded me of a page out of the Andre Breton's Surrealist Manifesto: 

This is why I freaking love Paris.

Not in Bruges

The decor of the Whittamer, the Brussels cafe with ridiculously good hot chocolate

I had a whirlwind weekend in Belgium, specifically Antwerp and Brussels thanks to my good friend Sophie who lives in the latter and took me around, watching me eat an overpriced yet delicious croque madam in the Flemish speaking but English-fluent Antwerp (as a local it seemed a bit much but it was cheaper than in Paris and the Coke was only two euro as opposed to four), between browsing the boutiques and later introducing my non-beer-drinking self to some of Belgium's better cherry beers, namely Kasteel Rouge which tastes just like very ripe cherries with no 'beer' taste whatsoever and packs a mighty punch at 8% alcohol. I didn't even finish it, it finished me and I was ready for bed. Teetotaller. Considering we were at Delirium, the bar famous for serving 2,004 kinds of beer, I think I did well not to let my novice ways get the better of me.

Both are really lovely cities, packed with unique architecture a warm charm that made me feel I was lucky to be there. And great people. And great food. We started Sunday off in Brussels with the most decadent and chocolately hot chocolate I've ever had, at Whittamer, a cafe that proudly displayed many photos of Diane von Furstenberg on its walls, then split a Belgian waffle from a stand (dangerously good)  before continuing our tour of the city centre. However, the tourist 'restaurant alley' that so many European cities suffer was an uncomfortable experience. We passed through when there wasn't much business, between lunch and dinner, and were accosted by the 'hosts' who were aggressively trying to get customers in, and I should mention they were not Belgian natives and this was not typical of Belgian culture. We were offered free champagne, dates - not the fruity kind but a night out with the host (?) - got unwanted hugs and kisses and when we finally got away from one, another pounced and so on until we finally got out of there and headed home to cry in a hot shower. Okay, not really but it was pretty yucky, but also a good laugh. What kind of restaurant host pulls you in by the waist for a close hug and whispers "You paint my life...ooh, Jesus Christ..."??

Luckily, around the corner was the greatest sweets shop I've ever seen, La Cure Gourmande and I'm grateful Sophie pointed it out because it was like something out of childhood daydreams. I was giddy and came out with a box of artisal caramels, some lollies and a biscuit cannister to take home.

We really weren't in Antwerp long enough to discover why it's a fashion mecca (nice boutiques but nothing out of the ordinary so can someone please spill the goods - outside of the Fashion Museum - so I'll know for next time), but it didn't matter. I had authentic Mexican for dinner with the girls at Gringos and saw the most awe-inspiring gothic Cathedral that I think could possibly exist, called Our Lady. It was massive in height and standing in front of it was almost frightening, it was so imposing, I think, because it was in such close promiximity to the regular sized buildings that surrounded it, and there was no foundation -  it was level with the ground, without steps or anything leading up to it. I couldn't possibly get a photo of the whole thing but I did find an aerial shot that comes as close to conveying my description as possible. It was sublime.

Compare with the size of the people on the ground

The interior of Our Lady cathedral, which houses four Rubens masterpieces

And some photos of the magnificent buildings in Brussels' Grand Place:

More of the sunshiney candy shop where everything was wrapped up like sugary presents!

 

In case it wasn't blatantly obvious where I stand, I highly recommend a visit, and be sure to see Bruges and Gent as well - the reputed most beautiful places in Belgium - as I will make a point of doing one day if I'm fortunate enough to get back there.

More Things Seen Around Paris

That headline is a sure sign I'm too tired to be posting. But here I am anyway...

Somewhat disturbing sculptures of a skeletal Mickey Mouse and Tintin




These two images are of the walls opposite each other in the gated
entrance to this office building in the Rive Gauche:




The Seine view of Notre Dame


Me, right now


The town hall (don't ask me what it is in French right now)


The (very expensive) carousel near the town hall

You know what's funny? Seeing guys 'roller dancing' on the sidewalks in Paris. Grown men cruising by, then flipping so they're backwards and doing these little dancey moves. And they always look quite proud of themselves.

More Paris Window Gazing

Last week I was walking along rue de la Légion d'Honneur where there are dozens of antique shops and found some breathtaking sights behind their storefront windows, such as this re-created (17th century?) room, above. Unfortunately, I have no idea what I'm talking about when it comes to French (or any other) antiquities so I don't have the details to accompany these photos (other than what's obvious). Still, informed or not, I found myself envying those who have the obscene amount of money it takes to acquire and live amongst such beautiful and soul-enriching things. Jerks.

An antique orrery

"How Yoooou Doin'?"

'Hey, do you mind if I lean on your head? I need to air this thing out a bit.'

One of the sculptures adjacent to a children's playground in Paris. Nice touch.

Merci Qui?

I couldn't help but notice this street art while walking on rue de Seine last week in Paris. As you can see someone has taken Andy Warhol's Marilyn Monroe prints and applied the hairstyle from the series to some of today's pop culture figures such as Britney Spears (with partially shaved head, nice touch), Dr. Spock (interesting inclusion), Manson (looking no stranger than usual, an improvement, really), and Michael Jackson (I'm not touching that one. Too bad he didn't say the same). A be-spectacled Warhol made the cut as well.

The pages glued to the centre of the mural were all the same:

I did take a few minutes to try to decipher the artist's message - it seems to be signed 'Beaumarchais' and Pierre August de Beaumarchais was a French playwright who satirised the privileged classes - but what are the 'merci' or 'thank you' definitions about and is there a pattern to the words that are crossed or left alone?

Any ideas??

Hey Baby, I Like Your Paris Style

At the Etcetura show the other night I spied two outfits that stood out and so I took the opportunity to snap them as I haven't done any on the streets of Paris thus far. Actually, I've only seen three people who I would have photographed if I felt more comfortable asking in French and not feared being seen as some of kind of crazy foreigner. That's not to say that Parisians don't look good, quite the opposite - everyone does and that's why very few stand out. It's an easy chic that reflects the attitude of the people and the feel of the city itself, which are one in the same, really. They've got nothing to prove, it's a quiet confidence that I wish I saw elsewhere more often.

Back to the style shots, we've got Mary from Norway (above) who is a designer herself - you can see her work at Flinga Clothing. I love the cropped jacket, the beret, the black contrasted with the pale belt and scarf - it all works so well on her and you can't help but notice. Especially when combined with her model proportions.

And below, I realised I didn't get her name or any other information, I think I wanted to let her slip away quickly because as stylish as she looks, she seemed a bit embarrassed that I liked her outfit. And I think it's because she didn't try. Well, if you didn't try, then extra points for you! You can't really tell from the photo (I forgot to take it off the 'night' setting after the show) but her jacket is quilted with a colourful pattern of something I couldn't quite make out but it was a very endearing piece of her eclectic outfit. And a pink felt hat will always get my attention.

An Afternoon at Cacharel - F/W Collection

After viewing spring's Liberty collection at Cacharel's Paris showroom the other day, I got to see fall/winter which as mentioned, was designed by the in-house team as the creative director slot is vacant after Mark Eley and Wakako Kishimoto left.

It's difficult to convey in photos but the collection really is beautiful and very Cacharel. Without a show or a presentation with models who are styled from head to toe with accessories, shoes, tights, and a certain look to the hair and make-up, the clothes really must speak for themselves. And they did. (I'm quite sure they were whispering 'Take me home, you want me' but as no one else heard it I left them as they were.)

  So, it was more about pieces than looks and there were some stand-outs. A somewhat voluminous skirt with straps (see above) done in satin duchesse with a thick, tubular belt of the same fabric was also seen in solid fuchsia and both soft and bold prints in organza and chiffon, the latter of which draped rather than puffed and was light and pretty. And a double-lapelled jacket done in navy and fuchsia with a Liberty print lining also wowed at first sight.

There were all kinds of sheer, printed blouses that were soft and lovely and few bolder ones in red and aubergine stripes, and luxurious velvet dresses and jumpsuits along with knit jackets and dresses in earthy tones, greys and plums rounded out the offerings nicely for the season. The tubular belts were also seen with jackets and dresses and oversize peter pan collars in all sizes contributed to the cohesiveness of the collection.

And the accessories! A small but well-chosen selection of elasticated belts with resin clasps in orange and fuchsia, slick fedoras, printed tights, adorable bow-print frilled socks, thick shimmer tights and cozy knitted gloves and hats would all make nice additions to the fun drawer. I love the inclusion of the brights for a fall collection, if there's any time we need them it's then.

It's too early to know if there's going to be a show for the spring collection, but if there is I really hope to be there to see it float down the runway.

The matching tights were fantastic

No camera justice here, it was far more gorgeous in person

As always, Cacharel delivered a youthful yet refined collection of pieces that will translate for years to come. 

Etcetura Debuts in Paris

    

Etcetura are sisters Ezra and Tuba Cetin from Istanbul and tonight they showed in Paris for the first time. It was just fantastic, I loved the collection, the styling, everything. The clothes were very structured and strong yet feminine with their focus on the waist, well-placed stiff ruffles and back-slit pencil skirts, all which made for a sexy and powerful silhouette.

And I have to say that the models impressed, which may sound like a big DUH, but sometimes - and I hate to say it this way, but it is a profession - the 'quality' does vary. These girls were so tall and so slim, and the arms on each of them were like sapling trunks - yet, they were strong, they had muscle tone in their legs and they were solid. And graceful. I am convinced there is a planet where these girls are bred and then sent down in rockets for castings.

I'm sure you've noticed the shots all have something in common - no faces! Where I was sitting was just behind the first platform and although I had a clear shot of each model on the way up the runway, even just a bit of motion on the 'night' setting makes for nothing more than a wispy blur. But I still think there's something to them, there were gorgeous details in the clothes so here's a few and I'll get the straight-on shots as as soon as I can - there was a stunning leather jacket that I have to see again and share. And I'll give the back-story to the collection as I find it far more interesting than most reference points.

Also, here's a video of the finale which comes after a presentation in the entrance that wasn't expected (just give it a few seconds), I think what she's wearing is based on Turkish traditional costume (and don't mind the camera flip at the end, another big DUH, I turned it to portrait while in video mode):

Some of the looks were pantless - just tights were worn and I don't know how they pulled it off but they went right over the shoes and somehow the heels didn't puncture them. And they wore stocking-like tops that covered the head but for one glorious ponytail. A few of the tights had shimmery gold, um, crotches which were actually made up of gold and black metal squares (no, I didn't get up under there and look, it was described in the info they have us). These embellishments were repeated on the legs, the hoods and the tops, echoing Istanbul's historic mosaics.

An Afternoon at Cacharel

What an afternoon! I got to spend a good part of it at Cacharel's Paris showroom taking in spring's Liberty collection which was a bonus as the invite was to view the fall/winter 2009-2010 collection. I had no inklings of what to expect from next season as Cacharel and creative directors Mark Eley and Wakako Kishimoto, big favourites of mine, parted ways after the spring show (not sure why), and I hadn't heard news of any replacement - hence no preconceived notions as to influences. Turns out the in-house team did the job, and it was oh-so gorgeous. Embarrassingly, I did little 'oohs' and 'ahs' all while a buyer was trying to do business but I really couldn't help it - it wasn't about orders for me, it was all about adoration (although I have to admit that a few times "Combien?" nearly left my lips while eyeing up my favourite pieces - I almost tried to buy them. It was a Pavlovian response.)

I'll show the fall/winter photos in a separate post and concentrate on the Liberty pieces here, which are a re-edit of their best of the 1970s, brought back to mark Cacharel's 50th anniversary. I really adore these prints and the easy, feminine styles of the dresses. They remind me of summers when I was growing up, when my only responsibility was being within earshot of my mother calling me home for dinner.

The news is that Cacharel is opening a short-term boutique - about four months - in Montmarte to sell the limited collection (only a small number of pieces were produced). They really are collectors items; who knows if we'll ever see them again? (75th anniversary??)

I have to offer a great big thank you to Annabelle for the invite and for taking the time with me (lots of it) to hold up pieces while I snapped photos. Everyone at Cacharel was so great, especially Annabelle who was as sweet as the Liberty dresses.

 
Cacharel shows from the 1970s








Awww...pour les petits bébés

Parisian Puppet Does Radiohead

On Saturday we walked across the Seine again for a good look at Notre Dame (see upcoming post), sat down on the bridge with our ice creams - Berthillon is the best in Paris - and watched a man set up a little stage from a box, load up some music and proceed to lipsync and air guitar Radiohead's Creep through his little rockstar of a marionette.

So I jumped up and started filming with my camera (I guess I had it positioned for portrait). I gave the guy a few euros and sat down to finish my ice cream. But then he puts on Rage Against the Machine's Killing in the Name of and I thought that was hilarious, and got it in two parts. Now, I'm not going to post it here because the end of that song of protest, if you don't know it or it's been a long time since you've rocked out to it, is a spewing of words that begin with 'F'. Loud ones. And never mind the last word.

So, I have Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 posted on Youtube which you'll see options for if you click on the video above (then click 'More from SwelleDenise' under the info box in the top right).

If you have tender sensibilities, don't go looking for that last one. Funny thing is, there were lots of families with small children that had gathered, and the kids looked a little confused as to why this puppet was screaming obscenities at them, and the parents became stonefaced. But noboby walked away! (But no clapping at the end for that one.)

Oh, and Creep has a couple 'words' as well but they blend. It's not the radio-friendly version.

Window Gazing in Paris

On my quest to find Colette on Wednesday I passed some interesting window displays, particularly this one for a bridal shop on rue Saint-Honoré with what I'm guessing is a dress especially made for wowing passersby (I found myself audibly saying 'Oh, wow!').

Before that I came upon a shop that sells formal dress for French high court judges:

One of the chocolatiers across the street from our apartment has made a dress of chocolate, complete with cocoa dusted top, with a hat and either earrings or brooches to match, and there's even shoes (the thought of actually wearing any of it on a hot day makes me laugh uncontrollably. But yes, I know, it's not meant for that):

Let's have one more look at that fantastic bridal dress (you have to love the unintended collage effect of shooting a window - here we've got the back of a service van and an Adidas logo):

Cacharel Liberty Prints and Other Goodies at Colette

I finally made it to Colette today - Wednesday's mission - after taking about 2.5 hours to find it. It was a very straightforward walk from my apartment, but Rue Saint-Honoré must split and start over with the numbers because it took me about another half hour of walking to find 213 when I was already at 153. And several people I asked didn't know where it was (how can you not??). But it was MUCH needed exercise and there really is no such thing as wasted time while walking around Paris.

Back to Colette (where did their super-cool website go?), the second floor where the women's clothes are - heart stopping. Everything is on busts like you see above in their special Cacharel section and they had some of the best picks of the season - Luella's lilac tweed and lace jacket, Hussein Chalayan's speed print dresses, a red rosette covered jacket from Fendi, those dresses from Mary Katrantzou (but no Rodarte yet, which I found out is pronounced Rodartay - I didn't realise, did you? Am I the last to know?) and the piece I was drooling over most - the lurex tweed jacket from Marc Jacobs. This one:

I've been dying to see what the individual pieces look like and while the jacket looks great in the photo, it isn't even close to how gorgeous it really is. There's so much texture and detail I couldn't stop putting my hands over it and even found myself feeling like a naughty girl when a security guard came up - I went into museum/gallery mode and thought I wasn't supposed to be touching the artwork! He just asked if I needed help getting the price tag out, it was hidden in the collar. I said 'Qui, merci' and practiced my best 'I'm not shocked at all face' which came in handy when I found out it was about 2400 euros. It was also the tiniest size ever. Otherwise, a no-brainer, of course. (Come, daydream with me. It's fun.)

As for the Cacharel Liberty collection, it featured the pieces from the re-edit they did with the Liberty prints they created in 1970 for their spring 09 show, to mark their 50th anniversary. The dresses were quite cute but the ones on the mannequins were either one-offs or they'd already been bought - they were not to be found on the racks (I love the buckled strapless in the GIF at the right). There were also adorable brooches, keychains and totes by Anne-Marie Herckes for Cacharel, with Liberty prints of course and I had to buy one of the bags, they're just so pretty and simple, and I love the mixing of the prints with the bow and strap. They look like your mum made it for you. It was so hard to choose, there were about seven combinations so I let my daughter pick the winner (we're going to share it):

How great are the brooches? I would have gone for one for us to share but they're a massive 90 euros and you know that means it would fall off within the first five minutes of wearing it, never to be seen again (I've scoured sidewalks for weeks after losing something I loved. Kind of pointless as it would have been trampled beyond recognition, likely with several people's gum stuck all over it - or worse).

As I was paying for the bag and doll (yes, got one of those, too, for my daughter - they were cheap) I saw the most gorgeous silk scarves being folded and I had to see one. They're Forget-Me-Not and they're huge, you can wear it as a wrap and tie it in a bow in front, with watercolour flowers, butterflies, graphic drawings of gems and a model's face on the palest blue colourway. I had to:

Bonjour de Paris!

It's my second day of 60 in Paris and we're just getting settled. Our apartment is right near le Jardin du Luxembourg and the Latin Quarter, it's a great spot. The Pantheon is around the corner and The Seine is about a 10 minute walk. I've gotten into the crêpes and the brie de Meaux and with all the walking I think I can justify that as my main source of sustenance.

I'm visiting Colette Wednesday for the Cacharel special Liberty collection, I just hope there's something left for me to see!

And I need to get on London fashion week, Milan is upon us...then Paris!

The Pantheon


Our apartment, through the blue doors on the left


Through the window of one of the patisseries near us


Notre Dame

An Indian Desert Feast for the Eyes

A reader and now friend from Mumbai (the best part of having a blog) recently took a road trip to the deserts of Kutch and Rajasthan in north east India. Yashesh thought correctly that I would find the dress and the adornment of the people interesting, and so shared his stunning photos. I've since been introduced to his wife Cherry who gave me a fascinating overview (see below) of the significance of the clothes and the jewellery of the people they met there, which as she says is just a small part of the great history of the traditional dress in these regions.

What strikes me most about India is the cultural importance of dress and adornment (how gorgeous are those children above?). The brilliant colours, the detailed craftsmanship and the symbolism is enchanting and intriguing, especially as it is seen in rural areas. I want to keep talking about that but I don't know enough to comment further without making assumptions, it's worlds apart from the Western culture I come from where the only such historical reference is when we dress like Coco Chanel or put on Levi's.

India is known for its textile industry and its production of vibrantly coloured silk brocades, embroidery and embellishment which is reflected in the dress of its people. But what about the jewellery? Read on to find out what makes it so significant:

Bangles: No traditional Indian woman will ever be seen without a bangle on her wrist. Most girls slip on a bangle when they come of age, and the others when they get married. In fact, the kinds of bangles worn by sects is as varied as the space and culture they come from. Gujaratis traditionally wore red and white bangles for their wedding, most of which were made from ivory. These were presented to the bride by her maternal uncle. Bengali women wear 3 bangles of copper, shell and a red bangle. Maharashtrian women are always given green bangles – it signifies abundance and growth.

The bangle was a purely decorative accessory in the pre and post Vedic era until the medieval period. Here onwards the bangle was transformed into a symbol of marriage. Hindu unmarried girls always wear some bangles round both their wrists as it is considered inauspicious to be bare armed. Bare hands are symbolically associated with widows who have been denied the right to
wear bangles or any kind of adornment.

Even today in rural India, a wife breaks her glass bangles when she is widowed. And in the progressed Urban India many women will wear only gold bangles after widowhood and not kanch-ki-choodi (glass bangles).

Wow. Makes Madonna's Lucky Star days seem quite a bit (more) vacuous.

Look how she wears the bangles almost up to her shoulder:

These people belong to the Gujarati and Rajasthani families – Cherry thinks the woman pictured above is from the Ahir tribe. The bangles would have been gifted to her during the girl's wedding – they do marry very young. The pastoral tribes cover their entire hand with broad plain bangles made of bone. The unmarried wear them only from the wrist to the elbow whereas the married wear them from the elbow upwards as far up as the underarm. Since these tribes are nomadic and they cannot keep their assets under safe keeping, they wear their saving in the form of jewellery on their person.

When struck by any natural calamity like draught or famine, bands of the tribes flock to the closest town to sell their bone bangles.

This tribe also wears a lot of colourful heavy jewellery and belts that are decorated with shells, metal-mesh, coins, beads and chains. The silver jewellery they wear is usual oxidised and could be massive chunky pieces, like the one this woman is wearing:

The nose ring: In the Banni area of Kutch, Meghwal Harijan married woman wear an elaborate gold nose ring called "Velado". It is a sign of marriage and worn only on special occasions. And yes, the one you see above is as heavy as it looks - the weight is likely supported from the ear.

Embroidery: Beadwork by the Harijans includes neck chokers and bracelets. The Meghwal who migrated from Rajasthan use varied stitches like the Khambira, Kharek, Kudi in their embroidery. This embroidery is beautifully outlined with minute mirror work. It is often called 'Moti Bharat' or beadwork.

                   

Music and bags at market in Udaipur:

 

Colours: Always bright yellow, red and saffron colours and mirror work with beads. Stitches used could also be open buttonhole and chain stitch.

The different sects of people here wear different colours. The Rabaris wear the bright embroidered clothes – blouses and long skirts. Blouses are often backless and stretch over the front in a broad T shape.

The women in Anjar – a town 40ish kms from Bhuj wear primarily black outfits – it's black with red bandhini (tie and die) work.

 
  


The lovely Cherry trying out a hand made bead necklace,
made by the Ahir tribe

Thank you Cherry and Yashesh!

A Perfect Day in Paris

I leave for Paris in two weeks for my two-month stint and this commercial for Miss Dior Chérie is setting the tone for where my mind is going (although it will still officially be winter when I arrive but I can hope and wish for the early arrival of spring). Sofia Coppola shot it with model Maryna Linchuk and the song is from Brigitte Bardot, the perfect soundtrack for flowers, pastries, beautiful clothes and walking around Paris on a beautiful afternoon - parfait!

 If you've already seen it, I think this is one that could stand another look!

And I keep hearing that the perfume smells like European strawberries, which I love, so I may have to follow this up and for the first time ever buy myself a bottle (I just don't wear the stuff), which in itself is one of the sweetest and prettiest designs I've seen.

Here's the full length version of the commercial:

 

 

 

Chill Out at Quebec's Ice Hotel

More great things from Canada: There is a breathtakingly beautiful hotel in northern Quebec that is made entirely of snow and ice. That means the decor and furniture as well as the structure itself, and even the drinking glasses and the beds (though they are topped with a thick foam mattress and fleece cover, and they wrap you up in a cozy, arctic sleeping bag).

Hôtel de Glace, or Ice Hotel, is a 32,000 square foot, stunning architectural feat that uses 15,000 tons of snow and 5,000 tons of ice to create the sculptural, cathedral-style buildings. It includes an ice bar, ice cafe, art gallery, ice chapel for weddings, ice slide (how fun!), fireplaces (somehow the place doesn't melt), and outdoor spas and saunas. The ceilings are 19.5 feet high and there are 36 rooms. Before you arrive you are given a package of instructions on how to prepare for your stay, including how you should dress to stay warm (no cotton underwear - it retains humidity and that means chilly bodies!).

The ice hotel in the small Swedish village of Jukkasjärvi was what inspired Hôtel de Glace, which has won several awards and has received international recognition since it was first built in 2001. A friend made the long trip up there five years ago and aboslutely fell in love with it. Her pictures were stunning, and while it is very cold, it's a magical and unforgettable experience. 

The Ice Hotel is redesigned every year and this month the building of the ninth edition has begun. About 20 workers will raise the hotel and another 10 to 15 will complete the details such as sculpting, polishing and carving. It opens mid-January and will only be around until March, at which point it begins to get warmer and well...you know.

 

 

   

   

  

  

  

     

All photos ©Xdachez.com

Paris Calling

I've just returned from my first trip to Paris and although it was brief (four days with one spent sick and one travelling to the airport) I fell in love. For anyone who's been and felt the same, the city tends to follow you home a little, non? The fabulous ones always do. Maybe it was that Fashion Week was happening while I was there and upon returning I've been exposed to all the buzz on the net and TV which keeps the excitement for Paris fashion going. Whatever it is, I'm hooked. It was all I wanted it to be. I ate crepes every day, saw people eating huge baguettes on the street and many men were sporting black berets. The Eiffel Tower was huge and far more impressive than I'd imagined (I'm terrified of heights so I didn't go up but the pavement was lovely), The Seine sparkled in the moonlight and Mademoiselle Lisa was charming and looking good for her age. So the childhood notions garnered from movies and books of what Paris is about held true, to my delight. My photos turned out well and I don't even understand my camera so that just goes to show the city is a spectacular model, naturallement.

You can feel fashion in the air in Paris. This is the city that nurtured Coco Chanel (and a long list of other fashion visionaries) so it makes sense (nevermind that their first lady is Carla Bruni!). It's in the Parisians' blood so they're just not 'try hard', you know? I should probably hold my thoughts until I see more of the city and its people. But my observations were that Parisians do the trends (or create them?) but are doing it in their own way, without looking like they bought the mannequin from head to toe with all the accessories. I noticed quite a few seemingly stylish women wearing above the knee tights (think top down so if you envision bike shorts you wouldn't be wrong) teamed with knee high boots. And when I say 'women' I don't mean 17 year old girls who typically can get away with the unimaginable, these ladies would have at least a few jars of creams promising to reduce lines sitting on their vanities. Bike shorts and tall boots is not a look I'd really go for but it worked for them and I'd say that indicates innate style - it didn't look ridiculous because of how they wore it - with a smile and their heads held up high. Magnifique!

They do love their high boots and skinny jeans for trekking around town and so I tried not to let it bother me too much that I was wearing my old red Donald J. Pliner wedge loafers with the scuffed toes for long adventures around the city (for comfort, because of a knee problem and the fact that I'm not a masochist). People were kind, no one looked down at them in disgust. Maybe my pale pink felt cloche was a good distraction, keeps the eyes looking upward, my saviour.

I also noticed the streets are a sea of black - black coats, black pants, black boots. Of course it was February so I'm curious to see if the streets are more vibrant come spring. It's the same everywhere as far as I can tell, am I alone in wanting to see a rainbow of shades all year long?

Okay, uh, you are probably wondering right now what the heck I'm talking about if you have looked left. As I went to post the photo of me with my daughter under the Eiffel Tower I was humbly reminded that I was wearing a black coat (too bad it didn't show the scuffed red loafers for further humiliation). LET ME EXPLAIN. I didn't own anything black, not a coat, pants, top, belt, shoes or even socks, for several years. I was into colour to such an extreme (don't think I went out of the house in clothes resembling clown costumes or anything!) and thought I looked dead in black so it was banned from my wardrobe. No LBD even, more like LPDs (meaning pink, not purple). I've added a bit in the past few months mainly because you tend to get a bit bored of what you're doing after some time and need to mix things up. One of these purchases was a wide high-belted Milly coat with black and gold buttons (as seen in photo). It has a cute A-line shape and is textured with a criss-cross thread pattern. It was half-price and I felt good in it so it was a done deal despite me already having a full wardrobe of coats. This includes a recent 50s vintage buy that I can't bear to wear (bought online). It's not just the fur collar that makes me feel guilty, the real crime here is that an innocent, unsuspecting, ugly moss green sofa was sacrified to make this coat.

I DIGRESS! So, after my complaint about the 'sea of black' in the streets all over the world it happens that I am swimming right in line with the rest of them. I guess due to years of colourful choices I still don't identify with the blackened woollen masses. On colder days I go for my cheery pale yellow Mackage coat with their signature leather trim that I am wearing for a fourth winter. I just had to add a few darts to the back vent because I noticed it was cut too high and was showing my butt when I walked. I don't know if it's done that since I bought it but how embarrassing! How could those walking behind me not look at my butt trying to bust through? Ugh.

FINALLY, I had to check out Rue Montaigne, a designer wonderland of the most fabulous boutiques where I cannot even afford to window shop. I was worried the gentleman greeters looming at the door were going to ask to see a recent bank statement. But I managed to get some pics of a stunning Valentino couture gown. The entire top was made of a seed bead design on mesh finished with an elaborate corded swirl pattern. This was repeated at the bottom of the skirt (see the detail) but I was so focused on the beadwork I forgot to take a picture of the entire dress! I found it to be especially inspiring and wished I could make a bag right then and there.

And one last note: I almost can't bear to mention that I didn't have time to visit Colette (I know, I could die of shame), but it's #1 on the list next time! What a wicked website, you must take a look.