l'embrouillamini

hot

2009-09-04T11:21:00.002+01:00

Lara Stone for Not Just a Label. Y
(Via fashionologie)

saturday wishlist

2009-08-15T12:25:00.006+01:00

clockwise from left:

American Apparel lace underwear; Warehouse drape leather jacket; Canon 400D; Cambridge Satchel Company leather satchel

**Something from this list has been purchased :)

true

2009-07-26T21:36:00.002+01:00

"Success nullifies. You then have to do it again, preferably differently."

Karl Lagerfeld, Twitter May 09

mark andrew webber

2009-07-18T10:11:00.001+01:00

Where in the world city map - Amsterdam Y

www.markandrewwebber.com

muji love

2009-06-11T22:07:00.000+01:00

Muji marker pens

font love

2009-06-08T22:04:00.002+01:00

I'm kinda in love with Daniel Angermann's 'Cartoons Abstract' font, free from dafont.com. Y

lady dior

2009-06-07T15:24:00.006+01:00

The Lady Dior film short makes me want to put on my finest black clothes, apply some luminescent radiance product and go get embroiled in a Hitchcockian escapade on the Eiffel Tower.
p.s. The tower's intricate fretwork makes me swoon. Y

glamour bondage

2009-04-28T18:37:00.009+01:00

I still love the Vogue Paris 2007 calendar featuring the opalescent Karen Elson. Carine Roitfeld is well up for a bit of 'glamour bondage'. Y

[images: flickr]

black and white

2009-04-26T14:31:00.002+01:00

Love Charlotte Mann's murals (read about her in today's Sunday Times Style supplement). You can see more of her work here. Y

sartorial lust

2009-04-20T20:47:00.003+01:00

Oh, how I love this blouse*. True, I already have several variations on the ol' nude/sheer/silk blouse combo but everyone has to have a thing, right? LOVE how Karla wore hers. Also LOVE Lara. Y

*Why does saying the word 'blouse' make me feel old? It generates the same shudder as when someone says 'frock' or 'jerkin'.

purdy flower

2009-04-17T18:58:00.011+01:00

My favourite ensemble from the FW09 shows was this stunner from Staerk. It's not so much the dress itself but the marvellous explosion of metal flora acting as a kind of space age corsage.

I've been thinking about how I could recreate this look; ideas so far involve several hundred metres of florists wire and a whole lot of patience; the scrunching of many many pieces of foil or, as a last resort, clamping Habitat's PISTILLO light pendant to my scapula.

Close second was this sexy little Balmain get-up. I mean, this outfit has all the ingredients of a stereotypical Parisienne: they love a bit of leather, have endless pin legs and, well, we all recognise the stripy t-shirt association with the French.

Topped off with a bit of au naturel hair and make-up and a dash of insouciance (her t-shirt isn't tucked into her jeans properly but she just doesn't give a shit!), this screams Paris. Je l'aime.

I'll be in Paris again in October and will no doubt see hundreds of fashionistas channelling this look as they stalk around the Tuileries between shows. I can't wait.Y

I still think of Paris.

2009-04-12T18:28:00.000+01:00

Alot.

angel-a

2008-09-03T13:10:00.002+01:00

"The clouds. The birds. Life. Breathe, look around.

Aren't we in the most beautiful city in the world?"

Luc Besson's Angel-a (2005)

* Very excited about tracking down a copy of the September issue of Gourmet - it's all about Paris!

{image from ign.com}

oh my goodness

2008-08-18T13:16:00.004+01:00

When I have my own place I'm going to recreate the ambiance of the Luxembourg Gardens with these Parisian chairs... swoon.

via Housemartin
img Baileys Home & Garden

chic shopping paris

2008-08-07T13:17:00.005+01:00

Last autumn I was super-duper excited to work as an intern with Rebecca Perry Magniant of Chic Shopping Paris during my sojourn in the City of Light. At the time, she was putting finishing touches to her first book and here it is! (on the shelves of Borders on Oxford Street, London) I can't wait to have her sign my copy WHEN I AM IN PARIS IN SEPTEMBER (can't help but announce that in capitals). You should buy this book; it features many beautiful boutiques and stores that you might not know about. I fancy myself as a Paris-oholic that knows many of Paris' hidden gems but even I went on over-drive with my Muji pagemarkers. I am proud to have added this wonderful little tome to my burgeoning Paris book collection (I'll be posting about this...at some point).

emerge

2008-07-29T13:00:00.004+01:00

Hello folks. After a period of blog hibernation I have crawled out of the woodwork, as it were, to announce the airing of my Paris Hitotoki.

I, along with seven other writers - including some of my favourite bloggers - have submitted little slices of experience from the city of Paris; a project launched by the lovely Lauren of Maitresse who is behind the Parisian branch of Hitotoki.

Enjoy!

p.s. After changing domicile three times since March of this year, my family have finally got the keys to our new house. Ergo, my life has been mostly consisting of sanding, stripping off woodchip and spending time in the paint aisles at B&Q and Homebase.

Photos of my exasperating 8ftx8ft bedroom renovation project to follow...

yes, I know I'm too late

2008-03-25T18:15:00.001Z

my paris articles

2008-03-13T09:57:00.004Z

My three Paris articles appeared in The Northern Echo on January 8th, February 5th (my birthday!) and February 8th, respectively. I hope you enjoy. Oh, and that is moi (photograph taken by self immediately prior to the Jefen show at the Louvre).

blogger's block

2008-03-13T09:56:00.002Z

Hello all. I've been in some kind of blogging vortex; no posting, no commenting - merely lurking. I guess I just want to say hello and I am still reading you all.

whoops...

2008-01-23T18:41:00.000Z

...I've jumped on the Blueprint bandwagon a little too late :( Thanks to Ms. Lola is Beauty's post (I had never heard of the magazine before) I am hooked on it! (To the point of constantly ringing my local Borders in January to see if the new (and final) issue was out).

This is cheesy, but you know when you feel like a magazine is written for you? A magazine that simultaneously features an article on camping and pieces on $400 + dresses is just for me.

Amazingly you can download the entire first issue at http://www.blueprint-digital.com/blueprint/2006summerB/ - oh how I wish I had a laser printer!

Susie from Style Bubble has also been writing about her dreams of creating her ideal magazine - I would love to see this happen.

As a kid I used to make my own magazines (always A5 size) and write articles and draw pictures for them. Then when I got to my teenage years I made more sophisticated zines, featuring (cringe) poetry, lists and reviews.

Even at 22 (almost 23) I love faffing about making newsletters - I'm a bit of a geek when it comes to fonts. I guess that's why I love Blueprint so much. Waaaaa.

romance

2008-01-14T10:25:00.000Z

In the latest issue of British Vogue, Camille Bidault-Waddington II recalls a moment of pure romance on the part of her beau, Jarvis Cocker {lovely photo of the couple smooching here}. When Camille returned from a trip away, Mr. Cocker met her at the airport with a card with her name on, and carried her luggage to the car.

Is this not the height of romance? It is in my eyes. I really hoped the card thing would happen to me on my return from Paris. But at least I got a hot chocolate :)

in other news...

2008-01-14T10:14:00.000Z

... whilst in Paris I wrote a series of articles for my local newspaper, the first of which has been printed - you can read it here. I'm chuffed as this is my first published piece (apart from a few bits and bobs when I was at college). I got three quarters of a page and a large mug shot (not on internet). Naturally I had to reward myself with some new shoes...

stella

2008-01-14T10:09:00.000Z

I've recently noticed that Stella magazine (from the Sunday Telegraph) frequently feature snippets on Paris, and I wondered if anyone had any back copies lying around that they may want to give/sell me.

Just drop me an email: cath_hewitson@hotmail.com

Merci x

in 2007...

2008-01-04T14:23:00.001Z

... I graduated with a BA Hons in Linguistics

... I fulfilled my dream of going to Paris. Two months weren't enough ( I think we all get the message). I attended shows at Paris fashion week, I interned at Chic Shopping Paris, I ate a lot of food, I drank a lot of wine, I loved, laughed and wanted to live there.

... I fell in love with Barcelona

... I fell in love with London

... I started taking greater care of my eyes after my Mum was diagnosed with macular degeneration.

... I grew closer to my sister

... I got myself in a tizz (still in it, in fact)

In 2008...

... I want to sit down in a quiet room and start *properly* writing my Paris book

... I want to go to Northern Italy

... I want to get myself out of my tizz (hypnotherapy, perhaps?)

... after ups and downs, I just want to plateau.

Happy New Year to everyone

love Catharine x

you look lovely today

2007-12-14T15:47:00.001Z

A well written text message can be romantic but I'm a pen and paper girl through and through. The excitement of receiving a handwritten love note beats the beeping of one's inbox hands down. How lovely would it be to find one of these tucked into your purse or coat pocket? Je les adores.

dans paris...

2007-12-14T12:05:00.000Z

Since 13th November most of my sentences have been pre-fixed with "In Paris..." and have ended in a wistful sigh and, on the odd occasion, a tear.

Coming back to my family has been fantastic; our new "den" in the defunct dining room is super cosy and the perfect place to curl up on the couch with Paris Vogue (merci Rebecca xx) and a cup of jasmine tea. Planning baking and craft sessions with my sister might sound twee but we will be in our element with scissors and bits of material. Painstakingly decorating my "alternative" Christmas tree (read: a rather large sprig of silver sprayed twigs (try saying that after a few-too-many tipples) was fun, especially adding my new Paris-bought ornaments.

However apart from during activities such as these, I don't care. I am sick of my job. I am sick of being spoken to like shite, having not much to do, tromping to work in raggy clothes, being the only one to wash up... an indicator of how little I care for my job is that I have almost abandoned wearing make-up to work. I truly don't care that there is a pile of filing to do; I have no motivation to do it.

In Paris... I cared about what I did. Every route was planned, every moment was savoured, hardly anything was taken for granted. It sounds cheesy but there was beauty and excitement in every day. And now I'm back here in Merdesville and tout est gris.

So the imminent New Year will be an opportune time to make changes in my life. To find a way to be content, to favour quality over quantity, to not expect things to happen but to make things happen.

In other news, I am itching to go to London. Lola is Beauty's articles on Gridskipper and The TiniestSpark's university musings make me want to hop right on the train and go and have tea at The Wolseley.

so I have expensive taste

2007-12-11T13:14:00.001Z

Dear Santa,

I know I'm getting too old for this lark, but there are a couple of things I'd reeeeeeally like in my life:

* A Victoria Ghost chair in smoke - everyone needs a bit of perspex in their life

* A mirrored cube from Habitat - they have these babies in Experimental Cocktail Club in Paris (sigh)

* A bottle of La Petite Cherie from Annick Goutal

* A Globetrotter suitcase

Hmmm, that's about it for now, methinks.

Merci x x x

bonjour...hello

2007-11-18T18:50:00.000Z

Assimilating has been hard.

But there are things here at home that I realise I have taken for granted in the past, such as a dining table which DOES NOT also serve as a wardrobe/ironing board/writing desk, crisply ironed clothes, a duvet which covers the full length of me, being able to brush my teeth in the bathroom sink as opposed to the kitchen sink, having only thirteen stairs to climb to bed, my Mum's cooking, being silly with my sister, my Dad's 'dad jokes', the feeling of carpet under my bare feet... there are so many things I love about home.

A couple of days before I left Paris I went to the Raymond Massaro 'La Botterie s'expose' exhibition on rue Norvins in Montmartre. I was having a wonderful day but it started bucketing down so I hurried into Maison Catherine for a glass of wine. This guy sat down on the table next to me and I just knew that he was going to pester me. Sure enough, he started asking me questions such as "why are you so sad?" and "what is the source of your pain and anguish?"... I felt like saying "Well actually I was devoid of any sadness until YOU, with your bright orange trousers, came and bothered me". I told him I was trying to come to terms with my departure but that I had my wonderful family waiting for me at home, and he shook his head at this. Apparently he thought that I was "enchained" by them. And he gleaned this from about five minutes of conversation. Tsk. Apparently 4euros will buy you free psychoanalysis at the Maison Catherine.

Anyway, what I have been getting to is that I never feel enchained by my family. I'm a weird one, in that I have always been so close to my parents, spending Sundays on days out with them when all my friends have been sat in their rooms doing their own thing. At 22 I still go on holiday with my family, and I am happy to spend a weekend (max) with them in their caravan. We have our Friday night ritual of making a nice meal (something not midweeky, which is an adjective used profusely in our household) while listening to music and then we sit down together to eat. I guess I just feel so lucky to have such a wonderful family as my base, and I never feel enchained by them. So Mr. Orange trousers can get lost.

And all this makes me think: could I move to Paris?

After five days back on home soil my heart is pining. I'm scared because I don't know how I am going to feel living back in England. I'm scared because I'll be back in limbo. I'm scared because I received my credit card bill.

But there are nice little things that cheer me up; I keep finding centimes in my purse and handbag, Blogger on my laptop is for some reason set in French and I have all my Parisian purchases on display in my room.

And I know that Paris will be there waiting for me to return, whenever that may be. Just like they say in the movies: I will always have Paris. Toujours.

update

2007-10-27T12:00:00.000+01:00

Well I have been so busy! My apartment is a mass of newspapers and magazine clippings and leaflets and museum tickets... I am collecting EVERYTHING, in the style of a magpie, for my book research.

I have decided that the updates from my journal thing is taking too long and I'm having to edit them - I'm not yet ready to reveal the inner workings of my psyche - so I will just pop along here and write how I feel at the time.

BUT I am working on a project which involves two of my favourite things in the world - scissors and glue-sticks. I have decided to return to 2002 and make a zine about my time in Paris. It will be full colour and collagey and I will upload it here so you can all read it.

I can't believe I have only two and a bit weeks to go. It's awful; I know my heart will ache. But as I will probably be bankrupt when I return home, I will be ordering a large amount of Parisy books from Amazon and hibernating for the winter months.

Exciting news also; I am officially a Chic Shopping intern! I have been working with lovely Rebecca, databasing for her shopping tours and we also have a few project ideas. So the area of my brain that deals with Paris information is on over-drive.

Tonight I am going to a book signing at La Cocotte; it is a fantastic little librairie gourmande on Rue Paul Bert in the 11th. They have a little tea salon and sell their own toile de jouy tea-towels emblazened with hens.

Tomorrow is the Puces de St.Ouen and then the braderie I read about at Girl in the City, and then a musical concert at the Opera Garnier and perhaps a glass of champagne and designer dessert at Cafe de la Paix.

I have also borrowed a mountain of books from Rebecca's Paris collection, so that is keeping me entertained too.

I am so happy here, and I don't want to leave. But February is calling me back...

*two bad things though - I stood im first crotte in the 6th a couple of weeks ago and my mobile phone was pickpocketed on the RER. Mais, c'est pas grave.

this has been a long time coming

2007-10-27T11:57:00.000+01:00

Elie Saab

The couple next to me keep whispering to each other – it’s so annoying!
I’m in the seventh row – what’s that about?!
There’s a man wearing a tam-o-shanter.
Damn – I forgot to put my memory card in!
And I have a perfect view of Dita Von Teese.

Elie Saab has produced yet another collection of stunning, sexy and glamorous pieces dressed with bows, flirty chiffon ruffles and puffball shoulders and sleeves. A particularly gorgeous dress had a body of silver sequins and a long flowing skirt in ivory silk – made for a goddess – and the models certainly were goddesses. Elise Crombez, Julia Dunstall and Lindsay Ellingson et. al all looked super sexy.

Chapurin

I’m sipping champagne and all I’ve had for breakfast is green tea and two figs.
I think I’m going to dye my hair darker.

The Chapurin show – entitled Russian Dreams – opened with images of hallucenogenic reverie and sliding doors opened to reveal sexy tailoring in mint greens, pistachios, soft blues and stark white. There was lots of crisp pleating, boxy power shoulders, panelled dresses in glittering fabrics and exaggerated hips on slim leg trousers.

Jose Castro

There’s Carine coming out of the Paul&Joe show wearing a grey blazer and a white skirt with silver sequin trim.
The runway is hot pink.

The running theme in Jose Castro’s spring summer collection was the flower; this was carried through in floral explosions on the fronts of sheer shirts and also quite literally in a series of magnificent dresses which made the models appear as walking bouquets. The way the petals flounced as the models strutted was beautiful. Of course, these pieces were interspersed with more subtle tailored pieces and sexy leather perfectos which altogether completed a wonderful collection.

Martin Grant

Damn me for not having the memory card. Today’s shows have been great as has my proximity to the runway. Oh well, it’s all in my brain

Although this collection was a lot more reserved than many of the others I have visited, it was a nice show to end on. Martin Grant effectively dresses the female body without producing clothes that scream ‘sex’. Instead, the palette is muted, mixing nude and blush pink with chocolate brown and shiny tan leather. Shapes were both voluminous – in baggy lurex knitted cardigans – and fitted, in sumptuous silk evening gowns with vertical bow detail.

Parvis de Notre Dame
Le 18 octobre 12h46

After yet another terrible night of sleep I have made myself a sandwich and brought it here to eat. I have noticed that I haven’t been noticing the Notre Dame; it’s almost like it’s just another building that I walk past almost every day and hear from my apartment.
Ha – an old American guy has just walked past shouting “Sanctuary! Sancturay!”
So I am here, looking at it in detail and with the utmost respect.
Something I have noticed is that I have been able to perform my ‘walking down the street with my eyes closed test’… I used to do it when I walked home from uni and it consisted of trying to walk with my eyes closed for ten seconds. I built myself to about 8 seconds in Jesmond, but have never been able to do it at home.
But here, I find myself closing my eyes quite often, especially when I walk across bridges, and I think it’s a sign of being relaxed and comfortable with my environment.

La Mosquee
Le 18 octobre 13h51

I’ve just sat down at a pretty little mosaic table and a cute little sparrow has landed on it to greet me.
Yet again, it’s a wonderful day – the sun is shining and I have a plate of cakes in front of me. There is sweet syrupy baklava, delicious rose Turkish delight and some kind of biscuity thing which is yum. And I have a little glass of mint tea.
Oh my gosh the birds here are so tame.
Oh my god one has just landed on my plate.
These are the most impertinent sparrows I have ever come across.
They have no mercy!
This is like Hitchcock’s The Birds!
When do sparrows migrate? Because that is the only time I will come back here.

Ok my plate has gone, and the birdies have cleared off.
On the way here I bought myself an Opoponax Diptyque candle; can’t wait to burn it. I am having one of those amazing days in Paris where everything is relaxed despite the fact there is a massive transport strike today and even if French builders find it acceptable to chain-saw/pneumatic drill/whatever the hell that noise was pre-9am.

Le Select
Le 18 octobre 17h20

Went to the Grand Galerie d’Evolution – it was fantastic! I was unimpressed with the lower level of plastic sea creatures (obviously) but the second floor with the big African stampede thing was amazing. And there were some sloths!
Afterwards I wandered up Rue Mouffetard, stopping to drool over the rotisseries. Then I made my way over to the Musee Zadkine which was lovely and now I’m here, killing time before I go and see Paris Je T’aime at the Lucernaire.
The house cat, Mickey, has come to sit at my feet. A West Highland terrier to my right growls at Mickey, who blatantly rules the roost here, a man taps away on his laptop, an elderly gentleman to my left carefully reads Le Monde with a pen poised to circle articles and he tears out pages here and there, Mickey now lies prostate on the bar, two men at the bar sip beers and a couple of ladies to my right – who both wear beautiful spectacles- are having an animated conversation. This is the perfect kind of café. Although Le Select is more than just a run of the mill café – the former clientele includes Picasso, Hemingway and F.Scott Fitzgerald to name but a few – there is no air of pretention here.

Escale a Hong Kong
Le 18 octobre 19h42

So I walked a little further down (how American did THAT sound) and have come to this place to have dim sum – Amy you have unleashed a new gastronomic obsession in me. I’ve had a quarter litre of rose, ravioli de crevettes, somethings de porc and plain rice.
So I have had several glasses of wine, including a kir at le Select, and now am having a “coupe royale” for dessert with is ice cream with lychees and various liqueurs poured on it. It makes me think of my Dad, and how I know we would both be dipping into to it. Ok, I will not cry over my coupe royale.
Have I mentioned how much I HATE the Tour Montparnasse? It dominates the beautiful horizon like some kind of charcoal sword jabbed into the pretty streets of the 14th. I resent it for ruining the view. Grr.

Paris Je T’aime report.

I.LOVED.IT! Oh it was fantastic, and I loved the opening music and mosaic imagery.
I took about thirty pages of notes – bearing in mind this was in the dark – and was chuckling and smiling away through it all. Of course, there were sad moments. The Place des Fetes scene was heartbreaking, especially since I had been there last week and felt that cold atmosphere in the air. I LOVED the American lady and her French language, and the way she felt lonely at the end, but then realised she was LIVING. That made me smile, because it’s a sentiment I have had a couple of times when I’ve been here.
Maggie G. was sexy as usual, and what is with Natalie Portman’s uber-radiant skin?
I loved loved loved it and can’t wait until it’s out on DVD (then I can watch it with sub-titles and work out the bits I couldn’t understand).

paris mon amour

2007-10-16T17:29:00.001+01:00

One of my main concerns when organising this trip to Paris was that fifty four days would be too long a time to spend on my own. Yet here I am, with less than a month left and my to-do list is spiralling out of control.

And I haven't been on my own as such. Last week I met up with Madamoiselle Lola is Beauty and we had a scrumptous breakfast in the Marais. A couple of days before that I had impromptu diablos with the owner of a boutique that has just opened up in the area. Then I had a visit from le boyfriend. Yesterday I met up for delicious dim sum with Amy in the 11th. Next week my lovely lovely little sister (she's seventeen) is coming to see me and then the week after ma chère Tulipe (my best friend Clare) is coming for a week.

And of course I have made acquaintances along the way; I am on the tu level with the guy who works in the internet place I come to, I have met a vintage stylist who is going to help me research boutiques for my book, and I say bonjour to all of my neighbours.

So really I was worrying about nothing. In fact now my worry is that I am running out of time!

Today I have had a wonderful day. I started at the Square du Vert Galant and then headed to the Musée de Lettres et Manuscrits on Rue de Nesle in the 6th. The Titanic exhibition was particularly endearing, and I bought myself some gold ink.

Then I kind of meandered around popping in and out of shops - treating myself to a box of Pierre Marcolini chocolates - and then had a scrummy lunch at Le Mondrian on the corner of Rue de Seine and Boulevard St. Germain.

I treated myself (more treats) to some sexy thick eyelashes from Shu Uemura and had a nice stroll in the sun.

I picked up some rolls from Poilane and a coeur neufchat fromage de vache in the shape of a heart - I introduced myself to the lovely saleslady as "absolutely not a conoisseur of cheese" and she helped me choose this creamy one - then I visited the Cafe de Flore boutique on Rue St. Benoit and had a lovely chat with the owner. I took lots of notes and explained I was writing articles etc. and he gave me a lovely fan as a parting gift.

Then I went and sat on the quai just beneath Pont des Arts and read my book - "Paris on a Plate" by Stephen Downes. I'm only half way through and it's fantastic - a must for gastronomes.

My fetish for perspex furniture has been well and truly satisfied today; I visited the Kartell boutique on Boulevard St. Germain and nipped into Habitat, for which I have a renewed love (I think it had a bit of a depression period but now is on top form).

So I am really looking forward to my dinner - I wish I had a toaster for my Poilane rolls! And I will report back on the cheeeeeeeese. Please do not expect an erudite description of it.

Notes from my journal:

Things I love about Paris today:

An accordion player playing La Vie en Rose, the waiter at Le Mondrian setting down my basket of bread with a "bom bom", my new-found comfort in eating alone, seeing a Japanese lady filling a small brown paper bag with fallen leaves on the cobbles on the quais.

Et finalement, deux questions:

*I would prefer to find one myself, but with minimal time, can anyone point me to a cheap purveyor of liquer? I'm after a bottle of Goldschlager and can't seem to find any anywhere.

*I am still on the look out for des pantoufles en fourrure in black - any pointers?

And to finish, on the subject of luxury which is a running theme in Paris at the moment (I will most likely post about this later) a quote from Francis Picabia (who illustrates his correspondence beautifully, as I found at the museum this morning):

<<Le luxe n'est pas un plaisir, mais le plaisir est un luxe>>

(Luxury isn't a pleasure, but pleasure is a luxury.)

Ahhhh Paris :)

mise à jour en vitesse

2007-10-14T16:10:00.000+01:00

Salut mes chéries. I apologise for my lack of postage. I really have been SOOOOO busy - drinking accroche-coeurs at Le Crocodile, eating chocolate tarts from Stohrer, watching Ratatouille, dozing in Les Jardins de St. Eustache, turning up my nose at gratuitous nudity in the Palais de Tokyo, being silly in a Fotoautomat booth, examining sloth skeletons, having the same breakfast two days in a row at Heurtrier - thank you for the recommendation Lola is Beauty - having sexy shoes bought for me, having to hobble home in said sexy shoes...

Ce n'est jamais facile à dire au revoir.

Alors, I am looking to the week ahead - even though I have spent WAY too much money and am now going to have to have a cheap week - c'est pas dificile, ici.

I promise at some point I will have my posts about fashion week up on here. And of course I have zillions of photos.

A bientot! x x

what an exciting week!

2007-10-06T17:04:00.000+01:00

Dice Kayek

Why does it have to be humidsville?
Ooh there’s Suzy Menkes. And there goes Hilary Alexander.
Some of the women here have legs skinner than my wrists.

The Dice Kayek collection exuded attitude. There were some wonderful leather pieces – to be worn with that Parisian insouciance – and expertly tailored shapes in white and nude pinks. The dressier pieces featured a colour set to be hot – hot hot pink, on a beautiful puffball mini dress. The shapes in this collection were feminine and sexy yet still carried an edge of nonchalance.

Vivienne Westwood

I’m in row 4 which means row 6, because rows -1 and -2 are for the important people.
It’s like Where’s Wally in here.
Oooh there’s Kanye West and his girlie.
Ha - just went and said hello to Kanye –got his autograph and a super cheesy pic with him. He’s actually a very refined and polite gentleman.
Ooh lights are dimming.

Even before reading the press literature on this show it was apparent that this show’s underlying theme was sex: it was inherent in Vivienne Westwood’s trademark voluptuous silhouette, the wild and ravaged hair styles and the suggestive seaming on the derriere.
Westwood’s models strutted powerfully down the catwalk, giving the photographers at the end of the runway a field day. Some unveiled their outfits right before the camera lenses; revealing fabulous dresses from underneath large banners printed with the phrase “The cat’s out of the bag” in the typical political statement style of Westwood. As the designer herself came out to a roaring applause, she even did a little jig on the runway.

Gaspard Yurkievich

This S/S collection was super sexy in black, champagne and poppy red. Gaspard Yurkievich was inspired by the work of Erwin Blumenfeld and the colours of make-up. The collection, entitled “Sheer Memories” comprised sexy chiffon fabrics, satins and super-fine cotton silk pique knitwear with a simple cut-out detail on the neckline. Trousers were flat fronted and super straight leg with pleating detail down to the mid-thigh. Many of the skirts and dresses featured a horizontal panel aspect across the lower body, just to say skimming the derriere. These pieces were accessorised with diamond-like shoes and handbags and paraded to the haunting voice of Dani Siciliano, setting a perfect ambience of romance and ultra-femininity.

Keita Maruyama

Just got here in time!
The girls are so young, and are wobbling a bit on those Louboutins.
Mmm the orange juice (blood oranges, I think, and freshly squeezed) is delicious.
A girl next to me says “This room is gorgeous,” to which her male friend replies “This moment is gorgeous”.
I love the make-up; the blonde wears blue eyeshadow, the brunette hot pink, the red-head lilac and the black haired girl green. All perfectly matched to the collection.
And I get a free gift – it’s a little box of Japanese cakes.

The setting for this intimate presentation of Keita Maruyama’s S/S 08 collection was perfectly chosen: a salon in Le Meurice decked out with parasols, stuffed peacocks and parrots, lacquered screens and twinkling chandeliers.
The collection itself was adorable and a pleasure for the eyes. When I offered this to Maruyama, a very quiet and modest man, he said that his inspiration comes from all things natural: birds, trees and flowers, and this is apparent in the ‘Exotica’ collection.
Black may be sexy but this myriad of colours epitomises beauty; fuschia pinks, turquoise, yellows, and lime green toned down with navy and chocolate brown. The detail on one hot pink mini dress was wonderful. Some of the pieces were more muted; the ivory, duck egg blue and champagne pieces, worn with shoulder high gloves and feathered turbans were beautiful. Accompanied by a jazz quartet, the presentation of this collection was exquisite, as was the collection itself.

Lutz

WELL. I got all schnazzed up to go to this show at the Ritz. Got there twenty minutes in advance, was rained on, was trampled on, was told to wait at the side. As time went on and the Lutz people started looking panicky, we (about thirty people – all of whom had been there for at least half an hour) were told that the room was full. And then this stupid guy said “You shouldn’t have arrived late”. Erm EXCUSE ME pretty boy, all us dedicated people have queued up for almost an HOUR. Grr.
So I went to Angelina and raised my blood-sugar levels with a Mont Blanc and a chocolat a l’Africaine.

Matthew Ames

There is one particular thing that is striking in Ames’ collection: simplicity. There are no fussy details, no over-bearing accoutrements that might detract attention away from the beautiful pieces. Instead the garments are exquisitely crafted in simple lightweight fabrics that lend themselves well to movement, as the advertising campaign from this collection demonstrates.
The palette is classic: navy, oyster, ebony and duck egg blue with the occasional striking piece in poppy red and bubblegum pink. The tailoring is perfect: crisp pleats and hidden fastenings make crepe de chine dresses, cigarette pants and waffle grain jackets streamlined to perfection.

Leonard

I have a good view of the stage here.
There is no middle ground when it comes to les cheveux in Paris: either it’s perfectly coiffed or les girls "ont l’air du sauter de lit” (that just got out of bed look). But it works. Straighteners just aren't welcome here.

The palette in Leonard’s S/S 08 show was a panoply of colour; fuschia, banana yellow, “swimming pool blue”, chocolate brown and café au lait in wild geometric prints made this a daring and super glamorous collection.
The models were bronzed to perfection and strutted down the runway in chunky block heels and leather mules. The pieces were fantastic: stunning gowns for a sexy summer evening, halterneck jumpsuits and crazy bandeau swimming suits in apple green, coral pink and purple. This collection oozed glamour and fabulousness.

(please excuse the blurriness)

Barbara Bui

I’m going to move along because a very tall girl with perfect posture has come and sit in front of me.
Lots of long hair in ponytails and lots of fringes!
Ooh a girl has just been moved back two rows. Her hair is lovely, it’s in a kind of beehive thing. And she’s wearing a baggy navy cardigan and a scarf around her neck.
Oh great another tall girl – with bowler hat! – has come and sat in front of me.

Barbara Bui’s S/S show featured a deliciously edible palette of biscuit browns and marshmallow pinks mixed with edgy python and zebra fabrics on leather mini skirts, chiffon dresses and ultra glamorous trouser suits. The shape of the pant for S/S is wide leg, worn with a super-nipped in blazer and a fringed bag. The evening dresses, in creamy ivory, featured encrusted panels at the neck line and panels of diamante flowers. In the ambience of the pink lighting, this collection was beautiful.

Chanel

Oh it was fantastic. Just kidding, I didn’t get a ticket. But I loitered around outside amid the estimated five gazillion pounds worth of Chanel gear. There were some fabulously dressed people there; the part of my brain that deals with potential outfits was on overdrive. And of course I saw some famous people including CARINE ROITFELD (poker straight hair as per and sexy black power-suit with boxy shoulders), Suzy Menkes, Hillary Alexander, Jefferson Hack, Rachel Bilson (she’s teeeeeeeny), various fashion editors and all the Vogue UK girlies and Mario Testino who was kind enough to pose for a picture – fancy that! After asking the security guys in my best French if there was any chance of taking some pictures of the runway after the show – and being told NON – this cute kid ran back in and collected loads of photograph packs for all the poor people who didn’t get in.
And then I metroed it back to Rue de la Verrerie for…

Emma Cook

I had an appointment at the show-room for Emma Cook. Oh how pretty this collection was! Beautiful salmon pink silk tea-dresses and blouses with a hot pink rope print, crisp white summery smock tops with crochet detail and anchor embroidery, a cute as pie cream wool sweater with a camera design on the front, a lovely navy drop waist dress with white collar and cuffs: the collection had a nautical theme but steered away from the hi-ho sailor look and instead was pretty, feminine and perfectly summery.

Junko Shimada

The Hotel Westin is beautiful: cream plinths, aquamarine woodwork, gilt and wrought iron balconies – just beautiful.
An American comes out of the lift with a kid in a pushchair and says “Look Max – all these people are queuing to see YOU!”
Gold dots go first. I’m black, I have to wait.
The security guy is scary. Like, you could have a really good laugh with him but if you put one foot wrong he’d floor you.
Ooh a woman with a fab razor sharp bob.
Some faker has just lost his seat in the front row.
If you arrive late, it’s your fault, love.
In the event of a fire, we would all die.

The Junko Shimada models emerged into the gloriously grand Salle Imperial at the Hotel Westin with bird of paradise chignons and teetered down the runway in sky-high raffia wedges with tropical flowers encircling the ankle. There were lots of zingy colours – lime green, orange, poppy red and that shade that is EVERYWHERE for S/S – hot pink. In between there were elegant chalky grey dresses with a swallow print, chevron knitwear in lime green, pink and cream, beautiful dove grey tailoring and exquisite dresses in black, pink and burnt orange with fan pleating on the shoulders and hips. Accessorised with elegant raffia hamper-style bags, the latter were the height of summer elegance.

the shows

2007-10-01T19:16:00.000+01:00

Here is mini report from the shows I went to on Sunday - the report from today will be here tomorrow! I promise. I've decided to add a few of my notes to the reports. p.s. Some of my pictures are rubbish - I apologise in advance....

Jefen

Frankie Xie’s S/S 08 collection – the second to be shown on the Paris catwalks since October 2006 – is a riot of colours with an insouciant sportswear attitude; lightweight “technical fabrics” in fluoro turquoise, red and yellow were utilised with the approaching Olympics in Beijing in mind. The collection was accessorised with black glossy Perspex visors and boxing gloves; the girls meant business in their tassled stilettos and furry hoods. Hair was long and poker straight; lips were painted a zingy coral red embodying the “tonic and colourful temper” that is the main foundation of Xie’s collection.

I’m in the second row – next to the writer from The Guardian!
I’ve just clicked my tights. Great.
There are lots of jumpers here.
I haven’t brought any water with me.
People are coming in so late!
I wonder who is here for Vogue.
Oh my gosh they’re so skinny.
She can’t walk in those heels.
Is that real hair?
Her shins are longer than my whole leg.
This damn camera isn’t focussing.

Lie Sang Bong

Sang Bong calls himself a “sculptor of clothing” – this is not just a man who makes dresses; rather, he pays great attention to the juxtaposition of clothing and the body. For this season Sang Bong sought inspiration from geometry; the circle is particularly prevalent throughout the collection, in mille feuilles of iridescent fabrics which create the illusion of plumes of feathers quivering against the body as it moves. Many of the pieces featured exaggerated silhouettes and sharp pleating yet were constructed from sheer, flirty fabrics thus creating an altogether romantic look for spring/summer.

I’m in the third row.
There are lots of dandies nipping in and out.
Ooh you get a free scarf with this show.
People here don’t like waiting, I think it indicates inferiority.
My shoes don’t fit in here.
There are ball things on the runway that look like a cross between anemones and physallis.
A girl in the front row is wearing a turban and granny glasses. And her free scarf!
I’ve just realised that I should use the landscape feature.
Cucumber necklace?

Mina Perhonen

Mina Perhonen’s show began with a model slowly drifting into the room; humming beautifully and carefully snipping away at her navy cotton sundress here and there to reveal white butterfly motifs. As she lets the remnants float down onto the runway, the tinkling of a piano slowly sets in.
The collection embodies summer: lightweight cottons and jersey fabrics in a varied palette of navy, teal, cobalt blue and jade green on a canvas of Capri pant, flirty skirts and summer dresses. As the collection progresses, pieces become more structured; a navy A-line skirt is paired with a simple white tee-shirt and port coloured vinyl mary-janes. The models have dewy, ethereal skin and plaits wound around their heads. The mood of the show itself – relaxed and dreamy - and the modest location set this collection off perfectly.

I’m in the front row!
It’s in an airy warehouse with a dove grey floor and white walls. And there’s a glass roof which is letting in the Parisian sunshine. Ooh and there’s a Steinway grand piano set up in the corner.
I think my camera is packing in. It’s getting a bit hot…
We’re all squished onto wooden rafters.
There’s a guy who looks like Uncle Fester.
Need….liquid…
The gorgeous model has a plaster on the back of her heel.
Ooh I get a free little ceramic charm.
This show was just lovely.

Bernhard Willhelm

When waiting to go into the show, it seemed that the construction of runway was still in progress, as aggressive banging of hammers and shifting of planks of wood was taking place in a hurried frenzy.
As we entered the room, it all became clear…
The models were encased in timber frames; some with nylon straps around their wrists and some with what looked like polystyrene stocks. The clothes didn’t seem to be the focus; rather, the theme of entrapment and immobility and the collection as an installation rather than a presentation. The models, in their makeshift cages, wear canvas dresses with prints of various flags, sun hats with radiating arms like an octopus and towelling masks with eye holes.
An altogether bizarre collection.

The girls in Paris are so sexy!
Lots of cardies here. And geek glasses.
I need to start smoking to fit in.
Oh my god this is so weird.
I need to open my mind.
Just got told off for going upstairs.
That girl looks like she is trapped in a game of Kerplunk.

Cosmic Wonder Light Source

The space prepared for this collection consisted of a high ceilinged square warehouse. In the room itself, timber frames with random panels of reflective silver and bronze.
As the show commences, birds begin to cheep and the first model makes her entrance, slowly circulating the perimeter of the timber frame, in a lightweight sundress with wood grain detail in a honey blond colour. There is lots of asymmetry here, in sundresses and smock tops, and details include silver foil panels on stonewash denim. The best pieces in the collection featured Yukinori Maeda’s exquisite tailoring; a beautiful dove grey blazer nipped in at the waist gives the model a beautiful silhouette.

I’m standing for this one (pfft).
Beaucoup de squishedness ici.
It’s like B&Q in here.
I want to say to that guy “Excuse me, pet, you’ve sat on a sweet wrapper”
Space-man/wood-cutter chic?

paris when it sizzles

2007-09-30T16:29:00.000+01:00

Rue de la Verrerie
Le 28 septembre 17h06

Il pleut. Il pleut. Et il pleut. So I went to Les Halles, planning to spend a lot of money in Zara. But it didn’t happen. I just couldn’t find what I wanted. So instead I bought lots of make-up in Sephora and some pink bits and bobs for the bathroom (anyone would think I was moving in!). I saw a lovely candle plate in Habitat (30euros – is that silly?); it has gold bits on and a horse. That description does it no justice, but it is lovely.
Then I went to BHV and bought the letter C that I have looked at EVERY time I went in, and what I thought were fuschia envelopes but are in fact fuschia bits of card. Oh well.

Cour Marly
Le 28 septembre 19h00

It’s hard to believe that this time last week I was sat outside in the sun-filled courtyard. Now it’s all grey and groggy. I’m in the Cour Marly (19th century) and it’s breathtaking.
I’ve decided to do the Richlieu wing tonight. I ask an attendant why many of the sculptures of the dead at rest have the feet on animals. She tells me that was a Medieval custom; the women rest their feet on dogs, signifying obedience and loyalty, and the men rest theirs on lions which symbolised strength (explanation complete with international gesture for strength). This was phased out when the Renaissance came about.

The staircase from the Cour Marly to the first floor is wonderful, the dim lighting is just perfect.
Napoleon’s apartments are magnificent – I hear an American guy exclaim “Holy shit!” on spotting the chandelier in the Grand Salon.

Somehow I end up on the 2nd floor. People are even getting it on in the Louvre! As I walk into one of the alcoves in the Flanders room, a guy is provocatively holding his girlfriend from behind while she bends over to examine a painting. He coughs and looks flustered when he sees me, and the lovers move away. As they do, I hear him say “Ahh they must love me here”. At least he thought I was French!

I see the reflection of the glittering Eiffel Tower in one of the windows on the far side of the courtyard. This is like French Kiss!

Café Marly
Le 28 septembre 20h36

Ok, I’m a bit embarrassed… I asked for a kir and said s’il vous plait instead of s’il vous plait MONSIEUR, and this group of waiters all corrected me. Waaaa.
Mmm, the kirs here are good, and they come with a little bowl of olives. Olives? Oui, olives.
OK now I’m consciously holding the glass by its stem so as not to make another faux pas. How do I discreetly eject the olive stones from my mouth??

Le 7eme Art
Le 29 Septembre 12h12

Phew, je suis knackered. Did the metro to Porte de Vanves. I’ve used the free sample of ‘Miss Me’ by Stella Cadente that I got in Sephora. I now smell like Pledge.

Alors, here’s what I spotted at the puces:

Bouchons (glass doorknobs) 2euros each; an Hermes shirt with print of Chinese boats on a lake 50euros; a phrenology head 180euros; somewhat tarnished Chanel gold bracelet 45euros, painting of a shaggy dog 30euros, rusty old keys 2euros each, a mannequin hand 30euros (I loved this SO MUCH), monogram rubber stamps 5euros each, Martini notebooks 2euros each, a battered old trunk 500euros, an old telephone 60euros, Burberry trench 200euros…and of course there was so much more.
I bought a pair of “Lanvin” sunglasses – authenticity not yet checked but they were only 5euros.
Then I walked for AGES to get to Alesia, where I walked down Cite Bauer (LIB- there is a house for sale on this street!!) And Rue des Thermophyles was beautiful, all cobbled and wisteria-clad. I bet it’s a lovely street to walk down on a summers evening, with a lover.

Rue de la Verrerie
Le 29 septembre 20h56

OK now I really AM knackered. But the fact that I have received yet more fashion show invitations is having a lifting effect.
Tried again in Zara on the way home, but again, rien. I just wasn’t in the zone.
I meandered through the 6th and 7th arrondissements, popped into Christian Louboutin (anyone fancy buying me a pair???).
Oh and I saw some pantoufles de fourrure in a Depot Vente on Rue de Buci but unfortunately they were pink. I want black ones – anyone know where to find them? I know you can get them in Agent Provocateur but they’re too expensive for me.

Has Anna Mouglalis recently had a baby? If so, I saw her, with said baby! Near Café de Flore.

FASHION SHOW REPORT TOMORROW NIGHT!
Jefen, Lie Sang Bong, Mina Perhonen, Bernhard Willhelm, Cosmic Wonder, Dice Kayek, Vivienne Westwood and Gaspard Yurkievich.

report numero deux

2007-09-28T17:00:00.001+01:00

La Belle Hortense
Le 26 septembre 17h46

Before I came out I made a delicious cassoulet: lamb, carrots, green beans, spinach, shallots, thyme and parsley.
I had my heart set on visiting La Boudoir et sa Philosophie on Rue Charlot; a lovely little boutique with quirky little items. I didn’t buy anything though.
Then I wandered down Rue du Poitou and said hello to the flat I was originally going to stay in, and then onto Rue Vieille de Temple.
I popped into APC, saw a lovely Grandad shirt and also saw Elisabeth from La Coquette! So I said hello and we had a little chat. Such a small world.
It started to pour down so I ran into La Belle Hortense and ordered a glass of red wine and sat down in the lovely cosy little back room, and that’s where I am now.
Ooh a random man has just asked me if I’m a writer. I say yes. He asks me if I’m free for dinner. Is that how people get dates here?! Say you’re a writer and the offers come flooding in?? I say no, of course and he says ‘tant pis’ (too bad). C’est la vie.

…..19h08

OK now a couple have come in and started smooching, and although my eyes are focused on my book –‘Teach Yourself French’ – I feel like a gooseberry and I’m not quite used to all this in your face passion the Parisians exert.
I feel like I want some chocolatey goodness/badness.
The woman is wearing Hugo Boss Red and it reminds me of my friend Clare

Les Philosophes
Le 26 septembre 19h19

I’m here for a nice hot chocolate, it’s like molten lava; all bubbling and glossy. I love the atmosphere here. It’s light and airy, and busy and bustling – just like a proper café should be. The waiters wear traditional uniform and the banquettes are a delicious tawny caramel hue.
On the walls there are papier mache mazes; I guess this is all linked with philosophy and trying to find ones core amid all the carry on of life.

Rue de la Verrerie
Le 27 septembre 00h20

I can’t sleep. I’m sure I can hear someone snoring. Either that or someone is dragging a crate across the floor at five second intervals.
Tonight I watched La Fille sur la Pont in bed, all snuggled up. It was such a beautiful film. Vanessa Paradis was so divine; so perfectly lithe. The erotic knife-throwing scene was perfectly filmed… oh it was so romantic.
I forgot to say that I popped into Yukiko on Rue Vieille de Temple on my wanderings this evening. It’s one of my favourite little vintage boutiques in Paris, it’s such a treasure trove of pretty little things: Chanel earrings, Hermes bags, vintage Dior luggage, a big stack of cuddly pashminas… so beautiful.

Champs Elysees
Le 27 septembre 12h30

Came to the Marche Philatelie, or Marche aux Timbres, just off the Champs Elysees. It’s wonderful! I got the following:
A carnet of pooch stamps (2euros), twelve random French stamps for 1.50 and two Chanel stamps for 6euros. I’m starting to scare myself with all this stamp-related geekiness!

Parc Monceau
Le 27 septembre 13h11

I stumbled upon Dallayou and treat myself to un echiquier. It’s layers of chocolat noir, chocolat au lait and chocolat ivoire.
I’ve brought it here to the Parc Monceau. It’s quite cruel that I’m sitting here eating it, as there are lots of people running past me, and here I am stuffing my face with patisserie. To top it off, a tramp on the bench next to me keeps shouting discouragements to all the poor exhausted joggers.
Opposite me is a couple in a bit of an overtly passionate embrace. Crikey, this is x-rated! I think they are saying goodbye to each other before they go back to work, but it’s like they’re never going to see each other ever again.
It’s actually quite nice, the display of passion and the way they don’t care about anyone else here. The way he holds her hair back when he kisses her is lovely – they are obviously mad for each other.
Ooh, now they’re brushing each other down (she is wearing a jacket with fur cuffs). It is for smartness when they go back to work? Or are they removing evidence?

Rue de la Verrerie
Le 27 septembre 22h26

After the Parc Monceau I went to the Musee Nissim Comondo which was breathtakingly beautiful and its history heartbreaking.
I’m now back here at the apartment pottering around, pruning my miniature rose, writing letters. It’s wonderful.

Disclaimer (please excuse my atrocious grammar and abominable use of accents.)

ps the fashion show invitations roll in

2007-09-27T16:26:00.001+01:00

Gaspard Yurkievich, Junko Shimada, Leonard, Mina Perhonen, Bernard Willhelm, Anne Fontaine, Keita Maruyama, Lie Sang Bong, Elie Saab, Jefen and Dice Kayek.

And Vivienne Westwood Gold arrived this morning :D

paris report

2007-09-26T13:25:00.001+01:00

Alors, here I am in Paris. The week leading up to my departure was frantic; last minute emailing, last minute shopping, last minute buying insurance etc. Basically it was rather stressful. And of course I had to say au revoir to my loved ones.

I didn’t quite believe that I was going; not even at the airport. Not even on the plane, nor stepping off the plane. When I collected my baggage and went through passport control, it still hadn’t sunk in.

It was not until the RER train left the darkness of the terminal station and the Paris sunshine beamed into the carriage that it finally hit me – I had done it!

In the penultimate episode of Sex and the City, Carrie Bradshaw arrived into Paris with style, sophistication and a great outfit. My entrance, however, was not quite as glamorous. For a start, Carrie didn’t have to lug her bags off the carousel; one large suitcase absolutely jam packed and 19.9kilos (maximum allowance 20) and a holdall stuffed to burst. The strap of Carrie’s hand luggage probably didn’t snap half way in the queue for baggage x-ray. As a journalist, Carrie probably wouldn’t have forgotten a pen. And if she had a Dictaphone, she probably wouldn’t be afraid to use it.

So anyway, I made it to Chatelet and came up through Forum des Halles – visually not as ugly as people make it out to be, but a conceptual nightmare; like a multi-storey car park for pedestrians – and into the Paris sunshine. I then proceeded to get a bit lost; by this time I was super thirsty and super exhausted.

I finally arrived at Rue de la Verrerie and met with my landlady in the courtyard below. And then another fact hit me in the face – I had rented a fifth floor room with NO LIFT. And may I add the stairs pretty much spiral all the way to the top.

The apartment is small; thirteen metres square to be precise. There is a little kitchen area, a breakfast bar with four stools (four stools? They must be for when I hold cocktail parties), and a double bed. And of course a little bathroom. Emphasis on little. I have come to realise over the past few days that it is more spatially viable for me to brush my teeth and wash my face in the kitchen sink.

Alors… PARIS! This apartment is fantastically located; I am a stone’s throw from Hotel de Ville and the Pompidou and BHV (more of which later) and the Marais – c’est parfait! And I feel safe walking around and coming back to the apartment late.

OK, what have I done:

Thursday – I wandered round for a good few hours, exploring the little streets and (reluctantly) taking notes on my Dictaphone. I wanted to have a nice celebratory lunch so I wound up coming all the way back to Rue de la Verrerie and going into Le Verre Luisant (which waiter, C?) where I had poulet roti avec des champignons and a glass of Cote du Rhones, followed by a rich Charlotte de Chocolat. This café is wonderful, the menus are fabulous ( I may attempt to photograph/steal one), and about 30 seconds from my building.

I discovered a fantastic little shop called L’Ecritoire at 61, Rue St. Martin, selling everything you would need to write letters; cute little envelopes, seals and wax (I bought a stick of fuschia), calligraphy pens and inks, little decorative stickers etc.

Then I had a little nap and went for another wander. By this time I was exhausted, so I sat myself down on the Pont Neuf and read the Paris Times.

Friday – And then there was light. I went into BHV for the first time. Oh. La. La. There are files and notepads and pens in every colour you could imagine. I bought a calligraphy pen and a pot of fuschia ink for my little writing set.

A great thing is that, as I don’t have a full length mirror in my flat, I can pop into the mirror section in here before I go out. How convenient!

I went to Maison de Victor Hugo and then sat in jardins at the Place des Vosges. It’s so great to know that this place is so close to me.

Later on I went to La Loir dans la theire and had the most humongous slice of lemon meringue pie EVER. I am talking a height of approximately 6 inches. The ratio of lemon to meringue was pleasantly distorted towards the latter; god knows how many calories were contained within the mound of magnificent meringueyness. With around a third of the pie left, and my arteries starting to quake, I admitted defeat.

Then I went and sat next to the pyramid at the Louvre. I was supposed to go in, as it is free for under 26s on Friday evenings, but it was so nice outside and a guy was playing a clarinet in the recesses.

Later on I bought some beers and went and watched le rugby in the Parvis de l’Hotel de Ville. There was a fantastic atmosphere and so many people.

Saturday – It was twenty four degrees so I went and sat on Quai d’Orleans and wrote some letters, after munching my first nutella crepe.

I also made the mistake of going to Forum des Halles – Saturday – lots of teenagers. I was trying to find La Poste but I was too late.

If I ever feel the need to ball my eyes out during the next two months, I know where to go. In the pet shops on Quai de la Messigerie there are hundreds of kittens and puppies and rabbits and guinea pigs. I wanted to save all of them from their cramped cages, although I’m not sure a 13m square apartment would be much of an improvement.

I bought myself a pink miniature rose for the flat and then headed back for a quiet night in with some pasta and my book (Girl in Paris by Shusha Guppy).

So I have had a nice couple of days. Not once have I felt scared or super lonely, although I’m starting to need to communicate with people over and above the level of “je voudrais un café, s’il vous plait”.

As I haven’t worked out this wifi malarkey just yet, I’ll be writing here every couple of days or so. Au revoir et a la prochaine!

I wrote the previous post the other day and have been so busy I haven’t uploaded it. I’m finding it hard to write here there and everywhere, so instead I’m going to share the writing in my journal.

St. Eustache le 23 septembre 13h14

Found myself on Rue Montorgueil where the atmosphere was amazing; vibrant street stalls and bunches of vivid flowers and someone practicing the piano from an apartment somewhere above. I smell roast chicken and coffee and Jean Paul Gaultier Femme. And oh la la Stohrer – I bought a tarte au chocolat – here is my report:

First impressions: a shallow case of thin, fine pastry, a lovely golden colour, filled with a perfectly smooth and glossy chocolate centre and garnished with a dash of gold leaf.

The first bite: oh la la, the pastry is rich and buttery but just right; the glossy chocolate top reveals a richer ganache beneath. Is it de rigeur to eat this outside without a fork or napkin? Who cares, this is heaven.

The aftermath: A tiny bit of ganache has escaped the tart and landed on my finger and I love that the chocolate is so rich that it has stained my skin.

St. Eustache le 23 septembre 17h30
Saw Two Days in Paris at the cinema, it was great. And I understood the French bits! Have come out in time to hear the organ recital at St. Eustache, it’s so peaceful in here.

Le Café de Flore le 24 septembre 12h05

I’ve just walked down Rue Bonaparte and made a purchase in Laduree – a rose isaphan and two macarons – framboise et chocolat. They came in a lovely little box – well they should do for 12euros! I keep whittling away my money on sugar.

Turned left onto Rue Furstenburg which was beautiful, all the memories of my favourite film, L’Appartement came flooding back. It’s nice at this time of day because everything’s just whirring into action, people are slowly coming back to life after un bon weekend.

It started spitting so I ran to Café de Flore. I have ordered a chocolat special Flore. It smells absolutely divine. ‘Dominique’ has given me a glass with ice – what do I do with this? No one else has one so I am perplexed.

Mmmmmmmmmmmm. It is DELICIEUX – much better than Angelina’s! It’s thick and creamy and super velvety.

….later…

That was the best hot chocolate I have ever had. Ever. It was the full package – the drink itself, the atmosphere, the service – everything was perfect. It’s really not as stuffy as I expected it to be in here. All the waiters said goodbye to me, even the chef popped his head to say au revoir. I will definitely be returning.

Le Jardin de Luxembourg
Le 24 septembre 14h00

I’m now sitting under a canopy, hiding away from the rain. It’s really quiet here; all the green metal chairs are free because it has been raining all morning. Nevertheless, the park is beautiful. It smells like soil and cigarettes and the air is damp. It’s perfectly silent but for the birds cheeping and the crunchy leaves hitting the gravel as they fall from the trees, and an old man’s radio playing a few benches along. But even that is peaceful. I can’t help but feel that anyone who sees this city every day is so lucky. Even the pigeons waddling along are blessed, I hope they know it.

La Palette
Le 24 septembre 16h33

And then there was light (again) – the Grand Epicerie in Bon Marche. I bought nectar de cassis, spinach, green beans and a bunch of parsley.

I’m now having a kir. I’m conscious of not seeming like an ignorant English tourist, so when the waiter asked what I would like, I said “Que-est ce que vous pensez que c’est plutot pour un kir?” to which he replied “mais, non!” with a laugh.

I feel so content here. So far, these five days have been formidable. The man who was sat next to me said goodbye as he left. I was mistaken for a Frenchie this afternoon. C’est parfait!

Sacre Coeur
Le 25 septembre 9h39

I made an early start today and caught the metro to Barbes-Rochouart then wove my way up to the base of Sacre Coeur. I brought my breakfast with me – two Pierre Herme macarons – jasmine and chocolat et caramel and a lovely plump fig. In the Grand Epicerie where I bought it, an old lady showed me how to find the best ones. “Trouvez les plus molles,” she told me. And what’s this about Parisians being rude?

Sitting here, my ultimate thought is:

How can one not be in love with this city?

The sky is perfectly clear but for a wisp if mallowy cloud beneath the glowing sun. A pretty haze cushions the vista; it’s probably smog but it makes Paris seem like a fairytale city. Here and there the sun glints off windows making it seem like the city has been sprinkled with clusters of gems. This place is magical.

Chartier
Le 25 septembre 13h05

Oh la la. I’ve just had snails for the first time. They were delicious, absolutely gorgeous (if that adjective can be applied to a mollusc). A lady was sat on my table and she showed me how to use the snail grabber and ‘le pick’. Then the waiter came along and showed me the proper technique.

Then I had porc roti with gratin de chou fleur. The lady, Miniche(?), and I dicussed the beauty of Paris and how fabulous Chartier is.

Then I had a lovely chocolate mousse and said goodbye to Miniche, who was going back to work. Just as well I wasn’t because I had drunk three glasses of red wine.

Hotel Drouot

Le 25 septembre 14h15

I’m here at an auction for jewellery. Ooh, a ring just went for 40 euros.

I don’t think I can afford this stuff.

I don’t even have a programme.

I love the way a couple has come out for the day with their hearts set on one particular piece, and they win it. The man smugly tears a cheque from his book.

Two hundred and eighty euros for a pair of ugly earrings, remarks the man next to me.

The prices are getting silly now.

I can smell l’Instant Guerlain.

A Tiffany bracelet went for 160euros! Bargain!

I’m interpreting the coughs of the man next to me as grunts of disapproval.

There are a pair of skull earrings coming up and I point to the man’s catalogue and say “oh la la ils sont pour les Hells Angels”. He laughs and says “oui, avec les ‘arley Davidsons”.

They go for 2350euros.

That’s enough for one day.

I say “bonne chance” to the gentleman.

Rue de la Verrerie
Le 25 septembre 19h00.

I looked in lots of stamp shops on the way back. I never put myself down as a philatelist but they’re so pretty.

I bought an old postcard from Passages Panoramas, it’s from 1912.

Then I walked down to Ultramod on Rue Choiseul, where Christian Louboutin goes (no less) for his ribbons and buttons. I bought two metres of fuschia velvet ribbon to tie my Paris journals together.

I got back and climbed the NINETY SEVEN stairs to the apartment and fell asleep to the pitter patter of rain on the roofs.

this time in two weeks...

2007-09-06T20:16:00.000+01:00

... I will be in my beloved Paris; probably drinking a glass of wine in a bar somewhere in the Marais. I will have made my little apartment all cosy and homely with pictures of my loved ones . I know I'm going to miss them like crazy.

I'll be intoxicated, not only by the wine but also by the atmosphere; the smell of food swirling from restaurants, the sound of laughter, the clack of stilettos on cobblestones. I'll be in my own little utopia - a 13m squared canvas upon which to project the Parisian life I have been waiting so long to lead. Of course, you can take the girl out of England, but you can't take England out of the girl. I know I'll pine for my mum's cooking and to see a bit of countryside. There'll be many cultural conundrums to encounter but I'm ready for it.

Yesterday I had an interview at my local newspaper and we're in talks about a few articles, so I am very excited. My tickets are booked for the opera, the Salon du Chocolat and the 'I am not a Tourist' exhibition by Expatica.

I've been packing and working out 54 days worth of outfits (argh!), sorting out a credit card and tonight I have emailed so many fashion PRs requesting tickets for Fashion Week that my wrist is twitching from carpal tunnel syndrome. But I am happy and I can't wait.

And now the part where I ask questions:

*I'm taking an Orange mobile phone over with me and I plan to use the same sim card as usual. How would I go about topping up the phone while I'm over there?

*Can anyone recommend a cheap cinema in the Marais (preferably independent)?

*Where would I find cheapy cheapy internet access? (No connection in my apartment - waa)

I think that's it for now, but closer to the time I'll be bombarding you all!

I've had an affair with another city

2007-08-31T12:28:00.001+01:00

I'm sorry Paris, but I kinda had a fling with Barcelona.

I had such a wonderful time. We didn't stay in the city but in a little town called Canet de Mar on the Costa del Maresme about 40 minutes away (English tourist count = approximately 10 including us four) which my Dad has stayed at every year for seven years when he goes to see the Moto GP.

First - the food: over the course of a week we feasted on pa amb tomaquet (toast slices of a nice white loaf, generously rub a clove of garlic over it, then a tomato and finally drizzle with olive oil), allioli, mejillones, gambas, pulpo, calamares, chipirones, sardinas, paella, tortilla de patatas, ensaladas de tomate y cebolla, bocadillos de serrano, albondigas... it was gastronomical heaven.

One day we drove across the French border and stopped in a beautiful little port village called Collioure. The region of Languedoc-Rouissillon supposedly has the best light for artists. My mum is a watercolour artist so we took lots of pictures and mum took some sketches. We drove on to St. Cyprien en Plage where we dined on huge dishes of moules marinières et frites.

Barcelona, of course, was best. I've been before, but I never remembered it as being such a vibrant and passionate city. The Mercat de la Boquería was fabulous, Las Ramblas as busy as always and the Barri Gotic beautiful.

On the last day I went back on my lonesome and explored El Born (muchas gracias para Lola is Beauty for the recommendation). It was a warren of of meandering streets and labyrinthine passages (it reminded me of 'Shadow of the Wind' by Carlos Ruiz Zafon). The smell around the area was rather pungent in the mid 30s climate, but every now and then I would pass an open door and a delicious waft of cooking garlic would hit me and restore my olfactory pleasure.

I visited the Desfilades exhibition at the Museu Tèxtil i d'Indumentària and had the most deliciously velvety cafe con leche in the courtyard cafe (highly recommended).

I wanted to see the Lee Miller exhibit at the Museu Picasso (I love photographs of Picasso's private life) but unfortunately the queues were way too long. Instead I read El País over tapas y una cerveza then walked up towards Passeig de la Gràcia to see Casa Batlló, Casa Lleó Morera, Casa Amatller, Casa Calvet and La Pedrera (all wonderful).

And then I went a bit loco in Zara... I bought a black trenchcoat, a silk top with tie waist and a staple black cardigan (all for Paris).

I wished I had time to see Parc Güell again, but I had run out of time. Sadly, Palau Güell was under restoration, but I got my Gaudí fix on Passeig de la Gràcia.

I returned back to our retro hotel and sipped another cerveza, swam in the sea and read Vogue España (another whopper collections issue) on the beach. Estuvo perfecto.

Oui, c'est moi.

An excerpt from my notebook:

...fresh syrupy figs...a lime plucked straight from the tree en mi cerveza... overhearing an elderly couple arguing over how a prawn should be cooked - speaking of la gamba as if it were a sacred icon... Catalan lessons from the friendly guy in the supermarket... a whole aisle dedicated to tuna in Alcampo... tables set up for a street party in Canet, with plates piled with garlic and tomato at two table intervals, ready for pan amb tomaquet... sombre classical music playing on the RENFE train to and from Barcelona... me gusta mucho esta vida.

the dress

2007-08-16T13:03:00.000+01:00

The melodramatic phrase “I have nothing to wear!” is popular in my vocabulary. Eliciting it at the very least three times a week, I can often be found standing in front of my wardrobe with hands on hips and a pensive look on my face, or rooting through what I like to call ‘The Vault’ under my bed, pondering or plotting my next clothing-accessory combination. For the most part, I am one of those fickle people who don’t like to be seen in the same party attire twice, however due to my current parsimonious lifestyle I have no option but to recycle and rehash already-worn outfits. During these reluctant moments of economy I always manage to find something to wear despite my initial hyperbolic assertion; an item of clothing that has quietly hung in my wardrobe for months on end in waiting for a sartorial conundrum.

At twenty two years of age, I have not yet accumulated a wardrobe of plethoric emergency outfits, predominantly because I did not begin to genuinely care what people thought of my clothes until circa 2002. However, it was during the onset of my garment-related anxiety that I purchased my favourite-ever piece of clothing; an article of clothing which has been worn plentifully but is nevertheless adored and carries sweet sentiments within its swathes and swishes.

The item in question is a knee-length bandeau prom dress, of the sort that was au courant in the winter of 2003. Many of the styles from that era have been politely stored under the bed and/or repressed from my fashion psyche, but the dress still works for me. The print was not mass-produced and although it was from a prominent high street retailer I never saw another girl in ‘my dress’.

With an underskirt of ivory satin, the dress features a pattern of dancing horses in mauve, damson and blush (I can assure you it is beautiful). Around the bust and the waist are two panels of black ribbon, with a bow at the waist. It was purchased from H&M for £35 at a time when £5 could stretch at least a week. I had just left college and didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life; all my friends had gone off to university and I had broken up with my boyfriend of two years. And all of a sudden I tried on this dress (I can’t help but mention that it was a size eight) and I felt so…swishy and confident. I stood up on my tiptoes in the changing room, imagining my black charity shop peep toes working perfectly. With reassurance from my shopping companion I handed over the notes and never looked back.

The purchase of the dress seemed to signify a change in my life. I began the getting over the ex- process and started a new job. After a period of dance-floor inactivity, I resumed my weekly night-on-the-tiles sessions. I started dating a boy whom I had had a secret crush on for around a year. It turned out he had felt the same way about me. He was a boy who craned his neck to see me and who had a strange yet endearing fixation with my hair (incidentally he loved my get-up).

Things with the boy eventually fizzled out but the dress continued to see Christmas parties, twirling around on dance-floors drinking mini bottles of Moet and numerous (intentional) leg flashes. Every weekend I received at least one compliment from an admiring girl.

A few months later, I met the boy I am with now and for unknown reasons, swishing around in the dress went on hiatus. The last time I wore it was for a Christmas house-party at university a few years ago. A photograph of me suggestively wielding a home-made trifle in the dress circulates the online photograph albums of my flatmates and friends.

Now the dress hangs in my wardrobe on a padded hanger and from time to time I try it on in my room to evoke its memories, but it has not had an official wearing for almost two and a half years. Since then I have purchased myriad outfits, some of which have been discarded, some of which will hang in the wardrobe for years to come. Shoes and jewellery come and go but the dress remains.

I think it is time for an outing.

long time no speak

2007-08-16T12:57:00.000+01:00

Well hello my friends. A lot of things have happened lately; good things and bad things and crazy things and not-so crazy things, and I have neglected my poor little blog. I feel as though I have gone through a stage of writer’s block, but now I’m ready to write again.

I had my lovely little trip to London with le boyfriend a few weeks back. He rushed off to his meeting wielding a clipboard (or whatever it is he wields) and I was set loose on the streets of Londinium! We stayed near Kings Cross, which was not as bad as I expected/was warned and I had a nice little walk into the centre down Judd Street (had a delicious top three-ever hot chocolate in a little place called Le Patisserie Deux Amis) then walked past the Renoir which was showing Paris Je T’aime (which I still haven’t seen) and round past Russell Square and the British Museum then through Bloomsbury and finally onto Tottenham Court Road and then Oxford Street. Phew. By 10am my feet were blistered and I had peeled off several layers of clothing.

I bought a few things in Muji, and spent about an hour walking round Topshop (including time to navigate my way out). By this point I was in rather a lot of pain with my tootsies, so went to a quiet little Italian place for lunch just off Regent Street. I popped in Hamleys but the amount of children per square metre was too high for my liking so I quickly left. I made a huuuuge mental wish list in Liberty then went in my favourite shop in the world. Ever. I had heard of COS in magazines but hadn’t realised its fabulousness until I entered the store. I could have done some serious damage in there. In the end I did some minor damage to my funds and bought a lovely black bustier, or basquier as the charming salesman called it. I had a pop in Zara home – uber disappointed with it – especially after I had spent around three hours playing on the fun catalogue thing on their website. By this time my feet were actually bleeding so I sat on a bench on Oxford Street and ate a whole punnet of blackberries, until it was time to meet A who was wearing sensible shoes and whose feet were not shredded to pieces. We had about an hour and a half to get back and get ready to go back out to Covent Garden to see Lord of the Rings at Drury Lane. So I suggested we hop on the tube. Then we got to the ticket machine and my jaw literally dropped when I saw the £4 single ticket price. Out of principle I demanded we walk back, thus causing further damage to my poor feet. Thus rendering myself unable to wear sexy shoes on the night. Thus meaning I would have to wear flat shoes with a dress – which is not an option with my ankles. Thus I wore my jeans.

May I just point out here that I do not make a habit of associating myself with musicals. I would rather saw off my own arm than go and see Joseph or Cats but I made an exception for this since it was A’s birthday. And actually it was a really good show; fantastic in fact. I bit my tongue when the cheesy singing bits were on but the effects really were magnificent (and that is not a word I use very often).

So it was a very nice little trip away, and it has made me realise that there are so much more exciting places to live than my poxy 70s concrete building-, cider drinking teenager- and zero opportunity for exciting work- ridden town.

Next stop is Barcelona in a couple of days and then… Paris! My outward flight is booked (return ticket = not so important just this minute), insurance sorted, numerous garments purchased, opera ticket booked… now all I need to sort out is my spending money!

woop woop

2007-07-05T21:12:00.001+01:00

I will be taking a jaunt to London on Tuesday 17th; the boyfriend is at a meeting so I will be set loose on the streets of London town - can't wait! Hello Couverture, Paperchase, Selfridges, Oxford Circus Topshop, Zara Home etc. Question to Londonites - does Adam's Rib at Picadilly Circus?! What's on at the V&A? Should I give in to temptation at visit Ladurée at Harrods?!!
This is just the break I need :)

realisations

2007-06-29T13:36:00.002+01:00

... giving myself time to sit in my dressing gown drinking a cup of jasmine tea on a morning (as opposed to getting up fifteen minutes before departure and not having breakfast) means I don't get to work like a bear with a sore head.

... I spent too much time at uni daydreaming about Paris.

... it is not healthy to be around people who have nothing nice to say.

... I missed him more than I thought I would.

... sometimes one needs to start a tabula rasa.

hot pink

2007-06-26T14:37:00.001+01:00

I took this picture last year in Jesmond Dene. It was such a lovely day and the rhodedenderon was marvellous. And whaddaya know it goes with my new colour scheme! Oh summer, where art thou?

Attention Paris Lovers with access to BBC2...

2007-06-26T14:30:00.001+01:00

... tonight 9pm-10pm - Sandrine Voillet, Paris lover, presents the hidden treasures of the city in the first of a three part series about la ville lumière. I'm so excited! xx

les films français

2007-06-19T13:28:00.001+01:00

Most of my favourite films are French. I love Amélie (definitely a crucial factor in the emergence of my Parisian obsession), 5x2, Belle du Jour, A bout de Souffle, Caché (although I had to watch an interview with the director for it to click), Coquillages et Crustaces was fabulous, and Delicatessen, A Very Long Engagement and Lemming I loved. My favourite film (French or otherwise) is Gilles Mimouni’s L’Appartement [1996] starring Vincent Cassel and Monica Belluci. For me it’s the perfect juxtaposition of romance and tragedy. I won’t spoil the ending but I will say that it’s a refreshing change from the classic boy-gets-girl format so routinely adhered to in Hollywood. The locations are wonderful: a traditional wood-panelled café in Montmartre called La Pergola, an elegant shoe boutique on Rue Jarente, boutiques in Passage Vero-Dodat, a romantic rendezvous in a snow drifted Rue de Furstenberg and of course the eponymous Art Deco* apartment (anyone know where this is?).

As for French films I didn’t enjoy: L’Ennui, the Franco-American Last Tango in Paris, and I wasn’t a big fan of Les Amants du Pont Neuf. I found it too… gritty. I realise ‘grit’ does exist in Paris and that not everyone’s experiences in the city are luxurious and rosy. Essentially the film does have a happy ending and I did enjoy the doe-eyed Juliette Binoche’s performance but I wish she had escaped Alex.

American films set in Paris tend to let me down à la Le Divorce, French Kiss, Da Vinci Code (which I found so atrocious I only watched the fifteen minutes) and Moulin Rouge to name but a few. However I did like Dreamers (as I have discussed before), Audrey Hepburn in Paris When it Sizzles, and Before Sunrise was just magical. And although I have a serious hereditary aversion to musicals (thanks, Mum), Gigi was moderately acceptable.

There are some other French films that I really want to see but can’t manage to find at a cinema or on DVD. First and foremostly, Paris Je T’aime: where art thou? I don’t think any of my local cinemas will be showing this film when it’s released here this week. I have been waiting forever to see this and even on its UK release it is cruelly out of reach. Dans Paris is only being shown for a measly two days at the Tyneside Cinema (I have beaucoup de love for this little gem) and I don’t think I’ll be able to make it up there. So once again I will have to wait FOREVER to see it. That’s if it ever comes out on DVD. I missed Arsène Lupin at the Tyneside in 2004 and now can’t find it to buy anywhere, a similar situtation encountered with Qui êtes-vous, Polly Magoo?.

As well as the aforementioned elusive films, on my to watch list are The Beat my Heart Skipped, Hôtel du Nord, the Three Colours trilogy, Belleville Rendezvous; these are all relatively easy to get hold of, although there are plenty more that aren’t.

On my trip to La Ville Lumière I will be visiting the centre that holds an extensive catalogue of any films, periodicals and documentaries that feature Paris. You pay an admission fee and then have access to this collection. But I can’t work out whether this is at the Forum des Images or at the Bercy Cinémathèque…could anyone clear this up for me?

Any other suggestions for films featuring Paris would be great too. I’m always keen to see my beloved Paris on the big screen.

*Think I meant to say Art Nouveau, here.

this is where I ramble on about Paris

2007-06-12T17:51:00.002+01:00

Bonjour, mes amies! I promised I would tell y'all what I'm getting up to in Paris, so here goes.

Firstly I would like to quote from my 1858 copy of Baedeker's Paris:

"A stay of a fortnight or three weeks in Paris may suffice to convey to the visitor a superficial idea of the innumerable attractions which the city offers, but a residence of several months would be requisite to enable him satisfactorily to explore its vast treasures..."

An NPO (non Paris-obsessee) may think that I wouldn't be able to find enough activities to fill up 54 days in the city. But I can assure - and here is where my inner geek is embraced - that my day by day itinerary (which has been in production for approximately 2 years) tells me otherwise. In fact it's looking like 54 days won't be enough!

The first week I am there I am plunging myself into phonetics and written expression workshops at the Institut Parisien (I haven't booked these yet, so if anyone has any better suggestions feel free to comment /email). The next week is Fashion Week so much stalking and cocktail sipping will be taking place. The week after that I have persuaded my reluctant boyfriend to come and visit me. Et puis a week of flanerie and sightseeing and then I am hoping to have arranged some kind of work experience or voluntary work. This week I have been drafting a letter to prospective companies. My current top choice would be at Benneton Graveur, but I love all of the papeteries on Rue du Pont Louis Philippe and am intrigued by Marie Papier in the 6th. I am also keen to help out at companies which organise itineraries, as I consider myself a super-obsessed geek who loves hour by hour planning. For the rest of the time I am going to see where each day takes me!

I am also keen to meet up with fellow bloggers and Paris lovers - I am hoping to organise some kind of picnic or get together or perhaps even (attempt) to have a petit salon. I am so excited to talk to people who are equally as obsessed with the City of Light as I am.

And I suppose the main objective of my stay (although this was not initally the case) is to write some kind of book/guidebook hybrid. I've actually written quote a lot of material for it already so this trip is going to be the icing on the cake. I suppose I am a bit shy about my book - part of me thinks 'who the hell would be interested in reading what I have to say'. But my bookshelf is crammed with publications of the same genre. I love to read about other peoples' opinions of the city and absorb as much knowledge as possible. On average I would say I note down three recommendations or addresses for Paris every day. There is so much to know! Henry Miller said "To know Paris is to know a great deal" and I want to know it all.

I can not express how excited I am about this. I feel like I'm in limbo. Only 100 days to go!

p.s. Gill of Confessions of a Young Woman has mentioned that she is writing a Paris guidebook - I am très excited about this!

un meme

2007-05-31T21:00:00.001+01:00

Alors, I have been tagged to partake in the current meme thingamijig by Mlle. Lola is Beauty. I've decided to (tenuously) link each part of the meme.

1. Today is my blog birthday. This time last year I was immersed in exam revision and coursework and thought 'why not distract myself from working and potentially fail my degree by starting a blog?' I will find out whether the latter is the case on June 21st. Eek!

2. I graduate on Friday 13th July. I'm not particularly superstitious, but this is an accident waiting to happen. I am thinking of buying these shoes to wear on the day since my feet will be at eye level and they will be the only exciting part of me on show, but will I trip over in them? The last time I uttered the words 'I'm due for a fall' after witnessing my friend go arse over tit on the dancefloor, I fell over a week later. YES, it was partly drink-related but I was also having pencil-skirt (i.e. minimal leg span)/ill-fitting shoe issues.

Carine Roitfeld says she is superstitious, which leads me to....

3. Obsession de la jour... Mme Roitfeld in Christopher Kane. Check out those pins! I think I read somewhere that the dress was a one-off designed especially for her - lucky femme! I think she looks infinitely better than those scrawny messy haired socialites who appear in the Miss V pages of Vogue. A Christopher Kane dress can so easily go wrong par example Mrs. Beckham. I just don't think Victoria embodies Kane's aesthetic. Of course, Carine always manages to make everything look nonchalantly chic with her trademark hair and relaxed poses. I am definitely with Ms. Lola is Beauty who dreams of being adopted by Roitfeld. An added bonus would be having a brother called Vladimir!

4. The name Vladimir reminds me of Trannsylvania and vampires. Which leads to the fact that I have a (rather irrational) fear of people touching my neck. I've tried to source this fear: was it the fact that my umbilical cord was around my neck when I was born? Or the fact that as a toddler I rifled through my mum's roll of knitting needles and ended up stabbing myself under the chin - luckily with the only wooden one in the pack? I also hate seeing prominent Adam's apples and slasher flicks where people get slashed/nail-gunned/bitten on the neck.

5. A particularly prominent Adam's apple belonged to my skiing instructor as a child, whose name I have forgotten. When I was nine and ten our school went to Praloupe (French alps) and Montiporra (Italian alps - I think that's what it was called). It was fantastic. When we were in Praloupe it was my birthday and after our communal meal all the lights went off and the hotel staff brought out a birthday cake for me. Afterwards we all went ice-skating on a (natural) outdoor rink under the stars. It was beautiful.

6. I'm a massive fan of being under the stars, particularly when it involves being in a tent. I do have a strange alter ego that loves to rough it in a tent with the rain pouring down outside. My other side loves the luxury of staying in hotels, ordering room service and sitting around in a big snuggly dressing gown.

7. The hotel I MOST MOST MOST want to stay at is the Hotel du Petit Moulin, and I plan to do so in September / October. If you're not familiar with it, it's a bijou little hotel in the Marais whose interior is designed by Christian Lacroix. I adore it before I've even set foot in it. (I won't elaborate too much on this as I have a half-written post about it). And it's quite reasonably priced too. Hint hint.

youpiiiiiiiii...

2007-05-31T19:51:00.001+01:00

... c'est fini! J'ai fini? J'ai eu fini? Whatever: my time as a student has come to an end. Now for the part where I become a responsible citizen. Hmmm, not just yet.

It has been absolutely exhausting and I'm glad I can finally do my own thing without feeling pangs of guilt. In the nights leading up to my exam I actually dreamt about Noam Chomsky, which was rather disturbing although thank god it was in a non-sexual stylee.

When I got home from work today Vogue had dropped on my doormat and I felt zero guilt curling up on the couch in the sun room reading it from cover to cover while the rain pitter pattered on the glass. And the olfactory pleasure from my lovely flowers from Monsieur Le Boyfriend made it all the more relaxing.

To rid my face of pizza-esque troubles and to generally return to functioning as a normal (ish) human being, I plan to have luxurious baths and early nights and perhaps force someone to massage my feet. And I really should stop sleeping with study paraphernalia e.g. a whiteboard IN my bed (no, really).

So, now I am a free spirit with a part-time job and 113 days until I set off for my beloved Paris. There's no way I'm going to get there before that, quel dommage, but I have a lovely little trip to Barcelona in August to look forward to. So what am I going to do with all this time? Alors, where do I start............

blah blah

2007-05-28T18:49:00.001+01:00

Still finding it hard to be coherent... so here's a summary of la vie d'embrouillamini for the past few weeks:

- reduced sleep which has led to an over-friendly relationship with Nytol
- a constellation effect on my visage; I endearingly refer to myself as Pizza Face
- a complete lack of fashion sense - I have reverted to the student get-up i.e. what is on my bedroom floor when I step out of bed
- a spurt of various illnesses which I believe to be psycho-somatic. Excellent.
- general trance-like behaviour due to excessive staring at computer screens and journals
- social calendar rather empty
- carpal tunnel syndrome

Excellent, non?

Thank god it's all over on Wednesday. 5pm to be precise. At which time I will probably fall over from exhaustion. Think I should check into The Priory in advance.

In blog-related news, I have several unfinished posts lined up, including the meme from Mme. Lola is Beauty and also an answer to a question posed by Maitresse - what exactly am I going to Paris for? All will be revealed...

coddled eggs

2007-05-15T10:31:00.001+01:00

I just realised that I used the totally wrong verb in my last post title - what I meant was 'addle' - maybe I was thinking about coddled eggs...?

Since my post I have been spending way too much time trying to work out a trip. I just feel like it's not going to work out - but I HAVE to go because my Diptyque candle ran out and I REFUSE to buy one in England.

But: I am skint. As in £20 to last til the end of the month skint. As in if I went to Paris I may cause myself some serious financial difficulty.

Flight prices from Newcastle (my local-ish) are a bit too steep and departure times are awkward. Eurostar is a bit better price but the train fare to get to London is out of bounds. National Express is just silly. Megabus to London doesn't do a service on the day I want to go! Somebody please invent a teleporter.

brain coddle alert

2007-05-14T14:45:00.001+01:00

...still not able to write a proper post. I seriously cannot wait until this Friday when I can hand in my essays and be able to return to some semblance of normal life.

I'm toying with the idea of fleeing the country after my final exam (May 30th). I've convinced myself that evacuating is the only thing to do - I just haven't decided where to yet. This week I have looked at: Milan, Nice, Lille, Croatia, Spain but I can't help feeling like I need to go to Paris. I can hear you all thinking 'how predictable', but I don't think I can hold on until September. I want to go vintage shopping in the Marais and walk along the Seine eating ice cream. I want to see Paris in the summer. I want to take lots of photos and drink lots of cocktails and eat lots of cakes and check out the street my apartment is on and buy French magazines.

Aside from travel, I want to be able to return to the good old days of posting about fashion and Paris as opposed to word counts and worrying about finance. Roll on 30th May!!

méli-mélo

2007-05-01T10:39:00.002+01:00

Cohesion is not my strong point at this moment in time, but I think I can manage to hash together an update post:

Dissertation word count: 4800ish of 10000
Deadline:18th May
Facial expression: :S
Mostly wearing: a grey bona fide fisherman's jumper
Distracted by: the colour palette in Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette, organising a poker party, the typography in Vogue Paris, Lost Season 3, a rekindled desire for zines
Anxious about: the aforementioned dissertation, the fact that I have paid my deposit on my flat in Paris and have had no word from the landlord...

Life is one big méli-mélo. Roll on 30th May, after which I will be able to post about Paris and other aspects of my reverie sans des sentiments de culpabilité (I will also be able to spend some one on one time with a French dictionary). À la prochaine, mes petits pois! x

...et voilà

2007-04-16T09:49:00.002+01:00

After much deliberation, email swapping, map checking and calculating, the lease is signed for my apartment in Paris! Hooray! Firstly I would like to thank everyone who has commented on my petit rigmarole. It seems that the irrational hemisphere of my brain got the better of me, and all I needed was a little reassurance. Special thanks to C at Lola is Beauty and her extensive knowledge of the quartier I will be residing in (this feels like an Oscar speech), and of course merci mille fois to the 'rents for helping me out with the deposit etc.

Secondly... I am so excited! My Parisian microcosm (all 13 square metres of it) awaits me.

Finally, I am going into hibernation mode for the next month or so. A 10,000 word dissertation is not going to write itself. So I will say adieu for now, and I'll see you on the other side. Groan.

calling all parisian inhabitants/lovers/loathers...

2007-03-21T20:17:00.001Z

Bummer. I can't think of a more erudite word at the minute. Basically, today I checked up on the apartment I wanted to have for Paris, and alas! it has been booked. My arsing around worrying about how long I should be going for and loaning from the 'rents has resulted in zero apartamento.

LUCKILY there is another furnished apartment available quite nearby - to recap, the one I wanted was on Rue du Poitou in the 3rd; this new one is on Rue de la Verrerie in the 4th, which is just off Rue de Rivoli.

(if you click on it you'll see a clearer image)

My main concern is: whilst staying on this street, what is the probability I will be murdered? In all seriousness , as I have mentioned before, I am a bit worried about being a young femme in a big city and really need to feel safe. If there is anyone reading who is familiar with the area I would be eternally grateful if you could give me some advice. Alternatively you could tell me to stop being so worried and just book the damn thing! Merci mille fois.

Je voudrais...

2007-03-13T11:21:00.000Z

...un Bedlington Terrier...

...une chaise en 'perspex' de Philippe Starck (smoky grey, s'il vous plait)...

...et cettes chaussures, s'il vous plaît.

les bijoux mignonnes...

2007-02-24T09:32:00.000Z

...that is hanging around my neck / adorning my fingers this week.

so near yet so far

2007-02-20T21:53:00.001Z

This post may well seem like a re-hash of previous posts (Paris me manque and I wish, I wish, I wish) but all of my wishes still count. Paris is what I am craving.

Even with reasonable proximity to an airport, ridiculous airfares mean Paris is not accessible to me. Believe me, if I had a credit card, I'd whack on a flight and a hotel faster than you could say 'Paris, je t'aime, but precarious living in a maxed-out overdraft means 'non' at this point in time.

But Paris is what I want, what I need. I can guarantee I would emerge from a trip with a beaming smile, albeit an empty purse, and restored determination to work my arse off to finish my degree. Hell, I would even take my revision notes and dissertation paraphernalia with me. It might seem illogical to travel all that way just to sit in a cafe and do some homework, but to me it sounds perfect. I'd run up a huge tab, fuelling my note-taking with huge steaming cups of chocolat chaud. After a few hours I'd pick up my things, walk around for a little break, then find another cafe in which to finish my work. Knowing me, however, there's a high probability that my uni work would go down the pan; so many things would be calling me - boutiques, galleries, museums, restaurants, bars, parks... there are so many Parisian things to pine for.

Right now I crave: bowls of steaming moules marinieres, a crisp Kir at happy hour, horns honking on the Place Concorde, drunken conversations about French idioms with non-French hotel concierges, riding on the carousel at the Trocadero, picking up free Paris magazines and newspapers outside Shakespeare & Co., watching French TV while getting ready in the hotel room, the abundance of stationery shops, French stamps, the cliched accordion players on the metro... I could go on.

But for now I am trapped in my home country by prices that were not calculated with thrifty students in mind. I am still on for Paris in September (oh, how I long for the days to speed up) but who knows what will happen in the interim.

*Quote of the day: "Paris has a way of restoring your faith" Sofia Coppola

in the flesh

2007-02-20T16:46:00.001Z

{images: Vogue UK: Christopher Kane, Preen, Bottega Veneta, & Valentino S/S07}

On last year's Spring/Summer runways, many designers showed a tendance for frills, flourishes and femininity in cool, creamy and fleshy hues; this came as a pleasant antidote to the hard-to-pull-off robotic offerings of Lanvin and Balenciaga et al.

There is one crucial prerequisite for this look: skin must be primed, preened and polished to perfection - 'insipid and sallow' is not the objective, here. Instead the complexion should be creamy; think glowing post-orgasmic flush as a guideline. On the body, flesh and nude tones daringly and provocatively invite double-takes from admirers who may mistake your apparel for nudity. This look can be worn to two extremes: subtle, pretty and demure or super-sexually charged. Christopher Kane and Preen showed body hugging dresses most definitely inspired by the latter interpretation of the trend.

Cate Blanchett epitomises the look in Versace (image: fashion reporters), demonstrating that one doesn't have to be tanned to carry off the trend. The beauty of this tendance is that it compliments both a bisque and bronzed complexion, as long as it is flawless.

At Valentino, the trend was worn with grace. Lily Donaldson wore a flirty tiered number in champagne; Jessica Stam a peach shift dress with bow detail, while Snejana strutted in a tutu-esque apricot millefeuille dress with diagonally-panelled satin bodice. Bottega Venetta's palette was primarily neutral and subdued; models wore crumpled yet feminine sundresses in dusky pinks and biscuit shades. In Louis Vuitton's current campaign, Scarlett Johanssen sports rose gold ringlets and a diaphanous damask blouse; her complexion reminiscent of a Renaissance beauty: creamy and flushed.

Christian Louboutin's Very Prive blush peep toes are the perfect accompaniment to this trend, elongating the legs and blending perfectly into the outfit. Alternatively, a delicate gem encrusted sandal will work, such as those worn at Valentino, drawing the eye down a perfectly primed leg.

This is a look that exudes feminity and oozes sex appeal, so don your prettiest accessories and a flirtatious smile, and be ready to make heads turn.

six choses

2007-01-29T16:41:00.001Z

Howdy, partners. I've been tagged by Maddy to do this thingamijig about myself. Here goes.

1. I have a very impatient streak. If I'm waiting for something to heat up in the microwave or cook in the oven, and there is 1 minute to go, I just can't wait. If a taxi I have booked does not arrive on the dot I call up the company asking its whereabouts. If I have a spontaneous idea, I have to do/see/make it right there and then. If I'm stood in a long queue and there is only one person serving at a cash desk, my foot starts tapping and I start making 'the agitated face' (according to my boyfriend).

2. I am a self-confessed logophile - a lover of words. I often make lists of new words that I hope to incorporate into my everyday vocabulary. I have even been known to 'read' parts of the dictionary in my quest to find words that beautifully express what I want to convey. I also love humour that involves a play on words. My favourites today are: moribund, panoply, morass, and crepuscular.

3. I like to make out I am tidy and organised. I tell myself that whiteboards and to-do lists will improve my efficiency, but underneath this façade I am shamefully messy and unorganised. My life is one long cycle of tidying my room, sorting out piles of paper and putting things back where they should be. If you have ever seen Signs, think of Bo and her 'it's contaminated' glasses of water left on every surface - that's me. I long to be tidy and to be able to get into my bed without tripping over/breaking something/spilling said glasses of water all over my carpet.

4. I am pale. I don't tan very well and I suffer from terrible prickly heat. I have an on-off relationship with fake tan. However, if I had to choose one part of my body that could be permantently tanned, it would be my feet. I wouldn't go as far as to say I have a full-on foot fetish, but I love a tanned foot in a nice low cut shoe. Is this normal?

5. I love monogramming. I have a collection of letter Cs in my bedroom, a sparkly C brooch and - my new toy - a wax seal with my initial on it. Needless to say, my friends will all be receiving wax sealed letters in the next few weeks.

6. On this day twenty-two years ago, I was born at two minutes past two in the morning, under the beam of a full moon. I came into the world after 17 hours of labour (sorry Mum), in a hospital which no longer exists and, in my opinion, the wrong country. Why couldn't I have been born in Paris? Sigh. Happy birthday to me.

happy new colour scheme

2007-01-08T15:42:00.001Z

As you may have noticed, embrouillamini has had a bit of a Spring clean. My new colour scheme was inspired by the delicious palette at the Spring Summer 07 Chloé show, at which I swooned profusely over many gorgeous items in shades of tobacco, mustard, sage and terracotta.

In particular I adored the patchwork element of this fabulous dress. A mite Hansel and Gretel-ish, yet it works perfectly when teemed with the plain silk blouse detail and tanned limbs. I am looking forward to seeing this colour palette filter down onto the High Street.

As a dedicated follower of monochrome and neutral based fashion, I must say that my affection for such a panoply of colour is a rarity. However, for embrouillamini, 2007 is officially the year of embracing colour! I hereby promise not to buy yet another pair of black trousers or another white shirt. Instead, I will inflict my wardrobe with bright, cheerful colours.

Happy New Year to all! I hope yours is as kaleidoscopic as this Chloé creation.

Merci mille fois, mes cheries xxx

{image: Vogue.co.uk}

craft fest

2007-01-02T16:16:00.001Z

It's strange that when I have nothing to do, I can't find anything to keep me occupied, yet when I have something important to be getting on with - ohhh let's say a 3000 word essay on language evolution due Friday 12th January 2pm - I find a million little bits and bobs to deter me from doing what I should be doing.

Over the Christmas period I have embraced my inner craft maven, and have spent copious hours of the day on various craft blogs (many of which sourced from the lovely Lola is Beauty) collecting ideas for things to make and do.

I began my craft fest with my cheeky gingerbread men...

I then made secret books for hiding secret things...
This one here is constructed from a Dicken's 'Life and Characters'. The literary goddess in me found it difficult to deface Dickens, but the end result was rather fab, if I say so myself. You can't see it here but the book is bound in tan leather with gold script so it looks quite nice on the bookshelf. I have never spent so much time wielding a Stanley knife...

...I was then inspired to make some stuffed felt donuts with bugle bead sprinkles...

It took me approximately 45 mins and one test donut to work out how I was to get the hole in the middle. I handed these out to my friends as Christmas gifts...

...and finally I gave 14 Audrey Hepburn cards some bling!

Next on the to-do list: a giant gingerbread man to hang on my door, homemade stationery and Shrinky Dinks charms.

I have inherited my love of crafting from my Mum, who inherited it from her favourite Aunt Cath - my namesake. Give me some craft materials and I will be occupied for hours.

If you have any fab crafty links, please comment!

the write stuff

2006-12-27T12:44:00.001Z

There is nothing quite like finding a hand-written envelope on my doormat, especially when customary mail comprises the following: account statements from Topshop and House of Fraser, luring letters from credit card companies and the occasional rub-salt-in-the-wound notification from the Student Loans Company regarding exactly how much money I owe them. I cannot recall the last time I came downstairs to find an exciting letter awaiting. It seems that handwritten 'snail mail' is becoming obsolete.

Nowadays (and I say this as if I am an old aged pensioner lamenting the decline of good old fashioned correspondence) people send emails in place of letters. Even Christmas and birthday greetings are gradually being replaced by those annoying interactive e-cards.

It is quicker, cheaper and more convenient to plonk oneself in front of a computer and speed type an instantaneous message: no writing the date, no locating a stamp, and no rushing to the letterbox before last post. But this quick-fire correspondence is impersonal, unsentimental and lacks the tactile enjoyment of tearing open the envelope to unfold the letter. Furthermore there is no chance of excitably guessing the identity of your benefactor from the handwriting or the postage mark. The format of email is also lacking: handmade paper cannot be beaten by the austere hues of Hotmail or Outlook Express. In fact I would take inexpensive lined paper over an email anyday.

I enjoy the process of sending letters as much as I do receiving them, from the meticulous choosing of the pen right through to the smoothing down of the stamp. There is also some simple yet exquisite delight in walking to the postbox and popping in the letter.

All in all the procedure of sending a letter is a much more attentive manner of connecting with your recipient. Therefore, I urge you all the purchase a beautiful set of writing stationery, a pen of fine calibre and a book of pretty stamps and impel yourself to write a thoughtful letter to a person whom you care about and feel like treating to this simple gift. And I will wait with bated breath for that delicious sound of a letter dropping on my doormat - hoping that person is me!

embrouillamini's guide to perfect letter-sending: essential implements and accompaniments

1. Notepaper: There are some beautiful styles around -it's all down to personal taste. You can create your own with paper cutters (available from department stores and craft shops) which produce a lace effect. I fantasise about having my own personalised stationey created by Smythson. Swoon.

2. Storage: I adore these boxes by 100drine, a Paris-based artist who sells her wares at the numerous Sentou boutiques in Paris (I bought my Boîte à Bonbons at the Rue du pont Louis-Philippe store). This box is a Boîte à Lettres - perfect for keeping your correspondence neatly filed.

3.Stamps - Stamps are stamps but purdy stamps will make your letter even more exciting!

4. A cuppa - Not paramount to the creation of a perfect letter but it will certainly help. Take your writing set to a local tea room where you won't be interrupted by annoying family members/ringing telephones etc.

5. Last but not least... a nice pen - A good quality pen will ameliorate the pleasure of letter-writing. Fluid pens such as fountain pens and rollerballs produce a lovely script - so much more exciting than a biro. The one shown here is an Emilio Pucci creation for Omas - how decadent!

Final tip: If you can get hold of some carbon paper, use it to make copies of the letters you have sent in order to keep track of what you have asked/haven't asked!

Happy letter writing!

merry christmas

2006-12-24T15:09:00.001Z

Well, well, well, Christmas is upon us! Only one more sleep til Santa comes.

Over the past few weeks, I have struggled to be more festive (and less Oscar the Grouch). I have cursed the throngs of shoppers getting in my way and had arguments with women in fitting rooms - naturally, buying myself Christmas treats - every girl deserves a present labelled ' To Me, From Me xx'. I have wrapped my presents in snakeskin paper and black ribbon, and haven't written any cards for my family or even my boyfriend. I haven't even rushed downstairs every morning for my advent calendar chocolate. I have remained adamant that I would rather not buy a gift, ergo waste my money, which will end up discarded in a cupboard. I haven't even been that excited about singing along to my Ally McBeal Christmas CD, which has been a fixture in my Christmas repertoire for the last five years.

But overnight my festive iciness has rapidly thawed and I am really excited for tomorrow! I can't wait for our rudimentary bacon sarnies and buck's fizz brekkie, Mum sitting on the couch with a black bin liner as my sister and I tear open our presents, Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, singing carols, watching Christmas films and smooches under the mistletoe.
Tonight my family will stick with our annual tradition of watching Home Alone on Christmas Eve, filling up at the part where the choir sings 'Oh Holy Night'.

Next Christmas I will be finished uni and an impending 10,000 word dissertation will not be whispering 'Start me, start me' at hourly intervals. I hereby promise to be more festive for Christmas 2007!

As a parting note, I would like to wish all of my readers and fellow bloggers a wonderful Christmas. I hope Santa brings you all that you have wished for. Merry Christmas,

Love Catharine
a.k.a. embrouillamini

P.S. This here little critter was made by yours truly at embrouillamini's gingerbread sweat shop. He also wishes you a Merry Christmas!

snip snip

2006-12-20T20:28:00.001Z

I did it!! It was very scary! All I can say is 'why didn't I do it sooner?'

I haven't really done anything controversial with my hair for years, aside from a brief encounter with a full fringe last summer and a gone-wrong home hair dye in a lovely shade of satsuma last Autumn. No, really. Not many people know about that one - that's because there was only an approximate window of 24 minutes to catch me (in the hair dye aisle in Morrisons supermarket) before it reverted back to glossy brown.
So anyway, I decided to be brave and go for the chop for the reasons posted below.

My new favourite hairdresser and I sat and talked for approximately 20 minutes about how I wanted it to look, right down the meticulous angle-of-fringe and incorporation of side-parting etc. He then reassured me that it was going to look fabulous, made me a fantastic cuppa and wielded his scissors above my barnet.
"Are you sure?" He asked.
"Go for it, " I said. I would have agreed to anything after my scalp massage.
And so my locks fell to the ground, sliver by sliver, until my hair was snipped to perfection.

He told me to wrap up warm now that I had lost insulation around my neck.
"Yeah I'll have to get one of those neck muffs..." I said.
"What, you mean a scarf?" He said. Why say scarf when you can say neck muff?
So now I am having to incorporate my neck into my outfits, and I am enjoying the challenge. And I definitely look more Frenchificated! Yee!

hello

2006-12-20T09:48:00.001Z

Just thought I would drop by and say hello while I am killing time before a very scary appointment. That's right folks -in one hour I am parting company with approximately seven inches of my hair. I am making the transition for the following reasons:
a)My hair is starting to feel a bit Worzel Gummidge-ish
b)I have had long straight hair for years and I'm starting to get bored
c)I want to look a bit more Frenchificated
d)Tis the season to be spontaneous

I would like to clarify that it is not for the following reason:
e)I want to imitate Victoria Beckham's Pob

I have been humming and ahhing over this drastic move for approximately 1.3 years now - way before she decided to hack off her tresses! So there.

Considering most of my readers haven't seen a picture of me in the first place, this will come as no shocking news, but just thought I would share my angst.

I will let you know if I actually go through with it! Mwah.

2006-12-10T16:44:00.000Z

FredFlare Podcast: Episode 3: Paris Flare

The Fredflare pair prancing about in Paris, talking about lots of 'crazy French stuff'! I love the 'Le Monde est a toi' mismatched neon lighting in Le Paris Paris! Also love the French spoken with American accent.Sigh, I miss Paris.

prada race

2006-12-05T20:05:00.002Z

I think I might buy this bag just to get back at Adam and thus equalize with him in the Prada Race (see previous post). Actually, I think this would secure me first place in terms of financial expenditure. If anyone wants to donate to the 'Adorn Catharine in Prada' fund, please email me.

things that I am moaning about this week...

2006-12-05T19:18:00.001Z

- The fact that my boyfriend has beaten me in 'The Race to Own a Prada Item of Clothing'. Grr.

- That my friend Clare is in Paris - and I am not! She has taken her boyfriend away for a birthday surprise. I gave her my guidebooks and made her a little 'zine about where to go and what to see, including where to find cheap cocktails and romantic smooch points. I hope they are having a lovely time, and that they are thinking of me whilst munching on croissants!

-The rain! I hate rain! Even when hiding under my Plumo Edwardian umbrella, it makes me blue. However, I do like being indoors when it's raining. The other day my friends and I sat in the sun room and had a board game marathon and drank Baileys hot chocolate - so cozy!

- My boyfriend's parents went to St. Omer Christmas shopping. My boyfriend and I were hoping to go along but he couldn't get time off work so we had to stay at home. On a positive note, his parents brought me back a stack of French magazines - including.....December/January Vogue! Avec 'Limited Edition' Calendar featuring Karen Elson!
My favourite image from the calendar is the front cover - she has such milky, opalescent skin - absolutely flawless. I'm also loving Carine's direction and the involvement of black rope.

I have been drooling over the calendar so much that I haven't had chance to read the magazine yet, but from flicking through I can see that it's a visual feast for those who adore Dior and the flamboyant John Galliano. Definitely a collector's piece.

I am hoping that my dear Tulip will be picking up the alternative cover for me from Paris! Je suis obsédé!

fifty things i frequently obsess over (for my fiftieth post)

2006-11-23T17:16:00.001Z

1. Chanel Camelia rings
2. Cavalier King Charles puppies
3. Doodling
4. Ladurée macarons - framboise and chocolat
5. French Vogue
6. Christian Louboutin black patent T-bars
7. Bolognaise sauce
8. Organised photograph albums
9. The smell of a barbeque
10. Dancing to Marvin Gaye
11. Making cocktails
12. Neck scarves
13. Chanel Rouge Noir nails
14. Cuddles
15. Board games
16. Paris
17. Moules marinieres
18. Shoes
19. Trench coats
20. Having the day to myself
21. Reading in the bath
22. French film nights
23. White freesias
24. Collecting quotes and lyrics
25. Nutella crêpes
26. Secondhand books
27. Going on cinema 'dates' (ice cream obligatory)
28. City breaks
29. Sloths
30. Sex and the City
31. Camping
32. Chambord on the rocks
33. Notebooks
34. Taking photos
35. Chocolate mousse
36. To-do lists
37. Conkers
38. Walking in the Dales
39. Capsule wardrobe shopping
40. The crunch of snow
41. Bunnies
42. Toasting marshmallows
43. Brass bands
44. Angelina's hot chocolate
45. Being mistaken for a French person (by a French person)
46. Laughing so much that my laughs become weirder and weirder...
47. Curling up on the couch with a pile of magazines
48. Paella
49. Diptyque candles
50. Planning my Paris trip on an hour-by-hour itinerary basis :)

charming

2006-11-16T10:30:00.001Z

[Image: Vogue Paris Septembre No. 870]

Ahh, me and my obsessions. My new one is:

Charms

I'm not really one for flashing labels, but I think these little charms are quite discreet - and they will never go out of fashion. The image here isn't very clear, but my favourite is the Chanel Camelia at 520euros [centre]. I like to fantasise that the Franc system is still in operation and that the charm would cost £52 as opposed to £364.

clinical diagnosis

2006-11-16T09:44:00.001Z

When I was tidying my room last night, I came across evidence to help pinpoint the onset of my clinical obsession with Paris. Alors, I found a zine that I made circa 2001, which would make me 15/16.

As a child (and teenager) I will really big on 'zines, but I don't think the trend really hit it off over here in Blighty. I used to spend hours on the American and Canadian zine distros on the internet, wishing I was part of the experience.

I've always preferred paper and pen to computers, and used to sit and painstakingly cut and paste my articles into zine format. The one I am going to show you today was called Wings on the Back of a Chair (god knows where I got that from) and it featured pieces such as 'Things to Make and Do' (craft and DIY ideas), I Want Never Gets (my perpetual wishlist) and Ten Reasons Why It's Great to be a Sloth (not a regular fixture). In issue 2, I wrote a piece called Ooh La La which listed all of the things I wanted to do in Paris - at this point I was a Paris-virgin!

I remember being quite shy about writing my zines, very much the same way as I was shy (at first) about writing this blog. I always felt that people would say'What's the point? No one is going to read it,' but I carried on cutting and pasting. I have to say that I keep having urges to make another one, perhaps about Paris. Hmm now there's an idea.

une vraie parisienne

2006-11-15T17:38:00.001Z

Check out Vogue.fr for the best addresses in Paris for food, fashion, nightlife, health and beauty. Tea and macarons at Ladurée followed by shopping for beauty goodies at Annick Goutal - and to top it off a romantic meal in one of the private booths at Lapérouse? I think I am cut out for the life of a Parisienne.

[image: Vogue.fr]

CEH loves V&R

2006-11-13T16:01:00.001Z

Guess what this is. Yes that's right folks, Catharine has plummeted herself even further into the murky depths of Overdraft-land by purchasing a few items from the Viktor&Rolf line at H&M. But hey, at least I'm well-dressed.

Being a geek, I was at H&M early, eagerly awaiting the ascension of the security grill. One girl even attempted a limbo-style movement in order to get through first. Even though there was only a small crowd, people were pushing and pulling.

It was surprising to find that some of the shoppers were co-operative. As I rifled through the rack of sheer blouses, a fellow shopper asked 'What size are you after?' There's no I in teamwork.

I took home: the black ruffle front dress, the white shirt with heart motif, the black silk blouse with sheer heart print panel and some black heart print tights with seams. With my lovely carrier bag in tow (complete with numerous samples of Flowerbomb and a cute little fan) I stepped back out into the real world.

My Mum posed a number of questions when I returned home with my purchases:

Q1) Do you not think the dress has a bit of a clash of detail, with the boyish shoulders and then the ruffles? A: I like the juxtaposition of masculinity (the military shoulder lapels) and the femininity of the ruffles. These details were incorporated so as to reflect the 'Love Story' theme. As the description at HM.com says, " Viktor and Rolf and H&M carve out this proclamation of love in signature Viktor and Rolf styles". How beautiful.

Q2) Won't everyone be wearing the range? A: Well, perhaps if I had gone out in Newcastle on Saturday night I would have seen the black ruffle front dress here, there and everywhere. But since I actually live thirty minutes away in a town which isn't exactly reknowned as a fashion haven, I safely wore the dress without bumping into a V&R clad doppelganger.

Q3) What about the quality? Aren't you essentially paying for an H&M dress with a Viktor and Rolf label on? A: V&R have created this range so as to make their designs available to those on a budget; those who want a piece of the fashion cake. But I'm not so naive that I think I am getting V&R tailoring for H&M prices; the clothes are of average quality, will probably lose a button over the years etc. It's just nice to own something that you know has been lovingly created by an admirable design duo. And I know for a fact that I will still love the dress in years to come. Maybe it's psychological.

Blogger has decided to not allow me to upload further pictures of said clothing. I feel that our relationship is crumbling and that I may have to move on to pastures new. Does anyone recommend Typepad?

un cauchemar

2006-11-07T11:58:00.001Z

Last night I had a particularly scary nightmare. I never wake suddenly from nightmares, rather I gradually come back into a hazy consciousness, in which I have lucid, irrational thoughts. In this foggy mind-set, I began to think about something that really scares me.

Even at the age of twenty-one, I feel comforted knowing that my parents are in the room next door, that the house is safe and secure and that if I am really really upset, there is always someone I can call or whose door I can meekly knock on.

But how am I going to feel in Paris, alone in my apartment for one? What if I have a nightmare and I wake up with no door to knock on? What about when the clocks go back in October and the nights become ever so dark and I have to walk back to my apartment alone? How am I going to feel?

In March 2004 I was mugged (on my boyfriend's street, of all places) and it has taken me all of a year and a half to summon up the courage to walk down that street on my own again. After it happened, I quickly programmed myself to be wary of people at all 360 degree angles. I ended up staying in more often than not, and found myself taking a one minute bus ride down Adam's road to avoid walking past the street where it happened.

So how am I going to feel in Paris? The last time I visited, I concluded that the Marais was the place in which I felt most comfortable, and pretty much decided that Rue du Poitou was where I would reside in Autumn 2007. My second choice was a teeny apartment on Rue Bonaparte, a quartier that I also liked.

I'm supposed to be sorting out the reservation this week, but now I'm panicking a little. I feel like I need to go back and conduct a safety survey. But I can't leave it too long or else the apartments will be snapped up.

I know I'm being overly cautious in the aftermath of my 'mare, but should I be worrying so much? I know I shouldn't expect the worst, but I have never been to Paris on my lonesome. It would be great to hear from courageous femmes who are braving, or who have braved Paris on their own.

dear mr. santa... (part one)

2006-11-05T13:55:00.001Z

Dear Mr. Santa,

Since I've been quite good this year with doing my homework on time, and tidying my room every week, I thought I'd show you this pictoral Christmas list. You might notice that everything is Burberry, well that's because I think I should support British labels, being a girl British born and bred. I think this rare act of patriotism on my part also deserves a reward.

So here are the items:

Top left: Aubergine Nova Check silk scarf £55 - Quite bargainous, don't you think, Mr. Santa? I also like the beige version.

Top right: Such a beautiful shoe. Patent leather buckle shoe £295

Bottom left: I know I already have an umbrella, Santa, but this one is pretty. Automatic walker umbrella in beige, lined with Nova print. £95

Bottom right: Isn't this pretty, Santa? I think my wrist would be lonely without it. 18k gold minitaure fob watch £395

All you need to do is log on to www.burberry.com, choose the shop online option, whack out the old credit card, and purchase away. You already know my address.

Thanks Mr. Santa x

halloween

2006-11-01T16:12:00.001Z

My favourite Halloween get-up ever was worn when I went to a Girl Guide party circa 1995. All the little girls were dressed as witches, devils, ghosts and zombies, and there I was in my car crash victim costume, complete with bandaged head and tread marks. Such a normal child.

Le Meg of Blagueur à Paris wrote a post about Halloween and how adult costumes tend to fall into one of four categories. I must admit that at a Halloween party the weekend just gone I succumbed to category 1: trying to look sexy.

My initial costume idea was to be a deranged pig (I have a silly pig mask which I was going to spatter with red nail varnish, you get the image) but I backed down on that one when I realised I would have to wear a pink t-shirt and pink trousers.

So instead I went as the ubiquitous vampire. At the beginning of the evening I think I managed to pull off the sexy bloodsucker look, but as the night wore on (and Twister was involved), I lost a fang in a paper shredder, tore off my cape due to oesophageal restriction and ripped off my super long false eyelashes in a state of drunkenness. Sexy? I think not.

embrouillamini has been a busy beaver...

2006-10-27T08:46:00.001+01:00

Lately I have been overcome by an irrational wave of envy towards people who live within a 20 mile radius of macarons. For I am stranded in a place where macarons cease to exist.

So I thought aha! why don't I have a go at making some myself?! And here are the results:

Exhibit A: My boyfriend's opinion: "It looks like a burger." Yeah, thanks a lot.

Exhibit A is the chocolate macaron. Can I just say that despite its somewhat squished exterior, it tasted delicious. But unfortunately it's all about aesthetics, baby.

Most of the tops of the macarons cracked, and the insides were still really smushy. You will see that the almonds were quite chunky; unfortunately I don't have a decent food processor.

Exhibit B: The lemon variety which bears little resemblance to an actual macaron.

This also tasted deeeelicious - I sandwiched it together with lemon cheese - but again, the exterior let it down. The tops were easily cracked and the insides were super chewy.

Not bad for a first attempt, but I need to get some practice in. Alternatively, someone could fly me to Paris and take me to Rue Bonaparte for the day to stock up on Ladurée and Pierre Hermé macarons... Anyone? No? It was worth a try.

Diptyque gets closer...

2006-10-25T20:18:00.001+01:00

A new Space NK Apothecary has recently opened up in Newcastle upon Tyne, which now means that Diptyque candles are strategically placed for temptation on my route into uni every morning...

...HOWEVER, I categorically state that I refuse to buy a Diptyque bougie parfumee from anywhere other than the original boutique at 34 Boulevard St. Germain. I will never succumb! NEVER!

Just thought I would clear that up.

this is what my mind looks like...

2006-10-25T20:03:00.001+01:00

My heartfelt thanks go to Robyn of The Girl Who Ate Everything who has provided me with an image which is now permanently burned onto my memory.

This baby <--- is a moelleux au chocolat from the Auvray Bakery at 45 Rue du Cler in the 7th. Hummina hummina.

Mmm chocolatey innards, as Robyn would say.

Check out her website - it's fandabeedozee!

My favourite Robyn quote: What is the opposite of butter? Sadness!

Image: Courtesy of The Girl Who Ate Everything (2006)

a different life

2006-10-23T12:39:00.001+01:00

I find it so easy to slip into a life of coveting material possessions and feeling like I must have this or that to be fulfilled or satisfied. I get carried away by trends and fads, and I forget to sit back and take in what is around me.

On Saturday my family and I drove to North Yorkshire, upon my request to 'see some nature'. Living in a grey town with grey people is not inspiring, so we drove for an hour or so to a place which was far from grey.

I am so quick to go into a rant about how much I dislike the place I live in, but I am lucky to live so close to lush fields and a plethora of greens, which is radiant even on a cloudy day.

We visited Dent, which felt like we were stepping back in time. We bought signed prints from a local artist, John Cooke and I fell in love with a ceramic Cavalier King Charles spaniel in the window of a bric-a-brac shop which was sadly closed.

We had a pub lunch in Hawes (beef trench: huge Yorkshire pudding filled with beef, mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts, carrots and roasties) and we bought local cheese from a deli. We dreamt about living a life in a cottage with land to have sheep (my sister and I also suggested llamas) and ducks. My mum would paint watercolours all day, my dad would tend to his ducks and go fishing and I would read novels all day and cook casseroles in a heart-shaped Le Creuset dish. My sister, being a typical sixteen year old, wasn't quite convinced with this plan, however.

Although I may covet things (all the time, a new thing every week, day, hour! (the Le Creuset dish included)) and my fickle side often gets the better of me, I really think I would love to live a quiet, non-materialistic lifestyle, away from the tabloids and brain-washing celebrity magazines and mind-numbing television shows. In the summer I would help in the garden and write while sitting in a field, or I would go to the local market to collect groceries for a well-planned meal. In the winter, I would curl up in a battered old chair in front of a log fire and read. I'm not sure how long this would last before I went insane and craved the trash I mentioned above, but I sure would like to try it.

j'adore zara

2006-10-19T13:50:00.002+01:00

You must go to Zara.com NOW!

The new campaign was shot in Paris, and there are some truly wonderful images. I printed out this image right away, as inspiration for my Parisian wardrobe/activities.

Ooh la la, the tights! and the bag! and the bracelet sleeves! and the sunglasses!... I could go on. You simply must take a look at the campaign, it's fabulous. Look at the mens catalogue too - sacré bleu!

the devil wears prada

2006-10-19T09:23:00.001+01:00

Last night my boyfriend took me to see The Devil Wears Prada (good boyfriend, huh?). We ate our body weight in Ben and Jerry's (Core sundae with Chocolate Therapy, Low Fat Chocolate Brownie Yoghurt (just to balance out the calories :D) and Chunky Monkey, with caramel centre).

I took notes on the film. In the dark. With an eyeliner. I forgot my pen, so an eye pencil had to be used (it made my eyes water anyway).

I really enjoyed the film despite my pre-skepticism of Anne Hathaway. She was actually quite cute. And Meryl Streep was just fabulous! So glamorous and chic and unlined!

I loved the part of the film where Andy got to go to Paris, and I was VERY jealous of her swing-around-a-Parisian-lamp post- kiss.

Not that the film is trying to be philosophical, but it made me realise how impressionable I am, and how magazines really thrive on the fickleness of young women. Oh well never mind, I'm off shopping. That's all!

and the award goes to...

2006-10-19T08:53:00.001+01:00

Finally Blogger is co-operating with me, and so I can post pictures of my favourite outfits from SS Fashion Week.

Most Beautiful Blouse Award goes to... Celine

And check out the loafers! Swoon. I have a mild obsession with loafers.

Most Coveted Summer Look Award goes to.... Temperley

I just love the jacket, and the glasses, and the necklace.... and I LOVE the fact that she has pale legs!

Most Adored Little Black Dress Award goes to... Stella McCartney

I like that it's a teeny bit shapeless, in keeping with the trend, but that the cute puff sleeves retain its femininity. Also love Jessica's sideparting.

Most Show-stopping Outfit Award goes to... Zac Posen

Ooh la la, this dress is fabuleux! It reminds me a bit of scrumpled up paper, and mermaids, but I wholeheartedly adore it nonetheless.

And finally, the Award for Most Obsessed-Over Outfit goes to... Chloé

Ok, where do I begin? A) Julia Dunstall is modelling it. B) The tobacco colour is delicious. C) The subtle ruffle front is amazing. D) The neckline is magnificent. E) The front pleat is a great touch. F) The length is refreshingly modest. G) The shoes are... just.... SCRUMPTIOUS! (If that word can be applied to footwear.) As well as my clinical obsession with loafers (and Paris, and macarons....etc.) black patent T-bars are my weakness. All in all, a truly wonderful outfit.

T minus 22 days...

2006-10-18T17:35:00.001+01:00

I can pinpoint exactly where I will be at 8.55 on the morning of Thursday November 9th. I will be outside H&M in Newcastle, with my face squished against the door trying to peer in. I will be wearing comfy shoes for the purpose of running and will have free hands for the purpose of maximum grabbage.

That's right, folks! Viktor&Rolf's range for H&M will be going on sale! I've already fallen for the classic belted trench with heart-shaped buckle and the ivory ruffle front blouse.

The whole collection will be shown at the H&M website on October 30th then available to buy on November 9th. That will give us exactly eleven days to befriend H&M sales staff and pilfer blueprints of the store layout.

For those of you who can't wait for a peek, there is an article about the range in the current issue of British Vogue. So get ready to wear your ruthless clothes-grabbing hat on for November 9th.

the dreamers

2006-10-16T17:06:00.001+01:00

On Friday night I stayed at the house of the two girls I lived at uni with last year. We had a night in and watched Bernardo Bertolucci's 'The Dreamers'. French based films usually come hand in hand with le sex, and on this premise, I was very much looking forward to it. And ooh la la, I loved it!
The film is set in late 1960s Paris and surrounds a group of three friends (Michael Pitt, Eva Green and Louis Garrel) who consider themselves to be part of 'a freemasonry of cinephiles'. The basis of the story concerns the 'removal' of Henri Langlois from the Cinematheque, and how the young students revolt against this, but the film also explores a dichotomy between the uptight American and the liberal Frenchy.
The film features many fantastic well-chosen cinematic shots from 1930s film, and beaucoup de sexual tension. My favourite line from the film comes from Theo (Garrel) who dares Matthew (Pitt) to make love to his sister (Green) in front of the Delacroix. "Maybe one reproduction will inspire another," he suggests. This line captures the essence of Parisian humour: un peu de culture and un peu de sex.
The Dreamers is essential viewing for any Parisophile, cinephile or indeed, films-that-contain-Paris-and-sex-ophiles! Best viewed with un ballon and un gauloise.

p.s. Merci for having me Lizzie and Betty!

p.p.s Check out 1 Rue de Malebranche for Matthew's burgundy faced hotel.

what we can look forward to

2006-10-15T20:12:00.001+01:00

Now we all know that this winter we should be wearing the ubiquitous grey palette, but what should we look forward to for next summer, while we are combatting the winter weather in our charcoal jumper dresses and slate cable-knit cardis?

Here are l'embrouillamini's favourites from fashion weeks in New York, London, Milan and last but not least Paris.

New York: I liked the preppy look at Marc by Marc Jacobs, particularly the jumper and bikini bottom combo sported by the doe-eyed Gemma Ward. I absolutely adored the Templerley show; I have been a fan of Miss Alice's designs since day one. She certainly knows how to dress as summer goddess - my favourites were the swishy stone sundresses, panama hats and knitted tiger shawl in ebony, chocolate and biscuit. I also loved the knee-length belted cardigan at L.A.M.B.

London: Bella Freud has successfully resuscitated the Biba label; my favourite piece being the shirt dress worn by Behati Prinsloo, and Aquascutum presented a fabulous collection of pieces including carpet-like fabrics in chartreuse and turquoise. I loved the way the fussy skirts were teamed with plain white t-shirts and cherry-stained lips. Beautiful.

Milan: The award for the most sexually driven show, in my opinion, goes to Salvatore Ferragamo. It was practically impossible to not be mesmerised by the models with long flowing caramel locks and honey-tanned limbs. Again, I loved the chartreuse/turquoise palette and the flashes of cherry red here and there. My favourite outfit was sported the denim high-waisted shorts and chocolate and lemon shirt rolled up at the sleeves. I loved the almost exclusively neutral palette of fleshy pinks and peaches at Bottega Venetta. An almost sludgy palette (beautiful nonetheless) was rife at Marni, with injections of cherry red and petrol blue. Otherwise shapeless boxy beige dresses came into their own worn with wide chocolate leather belts cinched at the waist, creating a modern take on the hourglass figure.
There is always a place in my heart for Burberry Prorsum, and Christopher Bailey delivered what he does best - providing a classic collection of eternally chic pieces, with seasonal twists. We saw bell sleeves on the classic trench coat and a prevalence of metallic snakeskin - perfect match for the pair of Roger Vivier pumps I have been lusting after. It was refreshing to see that, even for a summer line, models strutted down the runway with milky white, positively opalescent limbs, perfectly set off against the palette of taupe and dove grey.

Paris: I may be biased, but Paris' fashion week definitely delivered the creme de la creme of fashion designers.
I love the fact that the Chanel label consistently works with the most limited of colour palettes each season yet produces some of the most classic designs. The piece de resistance of the Chanel show was the high waisted black sequinned shorts - high glamour albeit high impracticality. Oh, and the little black dresses were truly scrumptious.
I used to think that Stella McCartney's line were much of a muchness; very plain and uninspiring, but this season Miss McCartney has excelled herself. Her range is still effortlessly simple yet ever so sexy; Caroline Trentini and Hilary Rhoda were oozing that I've-just-pulled-on-my-lover's-shirt look. My favourite from this show was without a flicker of hesitation the black puff-sleeved LBD sported by Jessica Stam.
I'm always swooning over Celine clothing, but this season I was practically palpitating. I praise Ivana Omazic for creating an utterly feminine collection of pieces which I think epitomise Parisian chic to a T. Je veux some Celine loafers!
I also loved the nonchalant Hermes show and Chloe's 70s inspired collection. And finally, the best effort award goes to Elie Saab who produced an entire collection which was fabricated in only one colour - gold.

*** This post will have to remain in hiatus until Blogger decides to let me post pictures. Grr.

yippeeeee

2006-10-12T16:57:00.000+01:00

Hooray! My parents have finally had ye olde internet installed chez nous! So expect more regular updates and Parisian swoonings. Gros bisous xxx

Paris me manque

2006-10-10T11:33:00.001+01:00

It has been only thirty one days since I left and I already have the Paris itch. My notebook is full of scribbled memos about events that have been taking place in Paris during the month of October. And I wish wish wish I could be attending them. I wish that I could…

… stop by at Le Takbo in the 9th tomorrow evening to meet Clotilde Dusoulier. Celebrations will be taking place for Chocolate and Zucchini’s third birthday. Hip hip hooray!

… be wandering the streets of Paris, whipping out my camera and snapping away at things. Gill Young of Confessions of a Young Woman has inspired me to start taking my photography more seriously. I admire the fact that she has an exhibition of her photos from Paris, and that she believes in herself and her photography. I hope one day I will be doing the same thing.

… have celebrated the annual Nuit Blanche on October 7th, when Paris came alive for an all night festival of culture and merriment.

… have seen the Marilyn Monroe photography at Musee Maillol, and that I could spend a day at the Musee de la Mode browsing the Balenciaga exhibit.

… be attending the Welcome to France exhibition for potential expatriates on October 15th.

… be feeling that autumnal nip in the air, having my cheeks go all rosy and glowing, then counterbalancing it with the velvety smoothness of un chocolat chaud.

… visit Colette to buy Antoine et Manuel wall stickers to decorate my room. I followed a link on the comments on La Coquette’s post about fashion show tickets, and have since been obsessed with the design duo! I want a Larousse dictionary! I want wall stickers! I want to stay in the Hotel Fox in Copenhagen! I’d also like to have a good browse round Colette for goodies and drink Fiji water at the water bar and pretend it has turned me into a supermodel. Sigh.

… savour that precious time slot early in the morning that I rarely see or enjoy. I’d leave my Parisian apartment early and have a nice relaxed breakfast at a table overlooking the street. I’d sip on a hot chocolate with a smile on my face, knowing that I had the whole day ahead of me (and the whole day to burn off the calories from said beverage).

… have been around for Fashion Week, if only to act like the paparazzi with my camera and notebook, and schmooze around drinking apèros at all the best cafes.

On an angry note, my easy/cheap link to Paris from a local airport which is practically in my back garden has been quashed! BMI Baby has cancelled all its flights to and from Paris, claiming that Durham Tees Valley didn’t do enough promoting. Damn you, BMI baby!

extending the blogroll....

2006-10-03T19:34:00.000+01:00

Don't you just love love love it when you start to follow a blog trail from one blogger's links to another, and you stumble upon some fantastic blogs with fantastic writing and fabulous pictures? I certainly do. Check out my links for blogs by people who adore Paris just as much as me!

my favourites from SS 07 so far...

2006-09-30T08:37:00.000+01:00

if...

2006-09-30T08:20:00.000+01:00

If finance wasn't an issue (and body transplants were available on the NHS) this is what I would be wearing this winter:

J'adore Loewe!

ladurée pooch

2006-09-23T11:55:00.001+01:00

This is what I wanted when I went to Paris!

I could spend hours on the Ladurée website. I also want a Sonia Rykiel chocolate bar! And a ton of chocolat blanc macarons! Oh the pain of living in a different country.

thou shalt not buy any more clothes

2006-09-23T09:54:00.001+01:00

I said I wasn't going to buy any more clothes. I cleared out my wardrobe after being inspired by Lola is Beauty. I felt guilty when I threw out approximately 18 pairs of socks, seven white t-shirts, and numerous pairs of tatty jeans. I even stuck a note on my wardrobe door: 'DO NOT BUY ANY MORE CLOTHES - YOU DON'T NEED ANY AND BESIDES, YOU CAN'T AFFORD IT!

And it worked for a week or so. My wardrobe was neat and tidy and I actually found a few nice things that I had forgotten about.

But I slipped. By the next weekend I had put £54 worth of jumper onto my Topshop card. And yesterday I pushed the boat out and bought the item above . It's called the 'Gatsby blouse' and is from Florence and Fred at Tesco, of all places. But it's so pretty, and it just fell into my trolley!

I am a bad person.

magazine sacrilege

2006-09-23T09:44:00.000+01:00

Forgive me Carine, for I have sinned. I have done the unthinkable. I have defaced the precious September 2006 issue of Paris Vogue.

I decided that I wanted to start a new ritual, whereby I frame the covers of Paris Vogue from the months of my visits. I'm just lucky that September was a good cover month! And that the colours match my room! I think Carine was thinking of me when she OK-ed it.

colour your language

2006-09-23T09:30:00.001+01:00

Experts will tell you that women are far more elaborate when it comes to the naming of colours. Ask a man what colour a lipstick is and he may reply 'red' or 'pink'. Ask a woman the same question and she may be more precise: Coral? Cerise? Fuschia? Plum?

Of course there are exceptions to this rule. There are certain men, fashion designers amongst them, who are as proficient as women at classifying colours. In Paris to the Moon, Adam Gopnik recalls the in-depth descriptions of Christian Lacroix's designs in a programme for one of his shows. Forget oranges, Lacroix preferred to creat garments in ostentatious hues of 'apricot and melon'.

Psychologists tells us that 'Western cultures' classify eleven standard colours, these being: ref, yellow, orange, green, blue, pink, purple, brown, black, white and grey. However some cultures, such as the Dani community in New Guinea only differentiate between two colour groups - warm and cool colours. How unfortunate!

My favourite colour groups are without a doubt the brown and beige families. Talk to me about shades of chocolate, tobacco, cinnamon, mushroom, mink, taupe, shell, sorrel and stone and I will listen wholeheartedly.

I read an article last weekend about how the language of colour is paramount to success in fashion writing. I would never rule out pursuing a career in this field, and was so compelled that I sat down with a pen and paper and my trusty thesaurus and made a list of all the exquisite colour names I could find.

I've already started peppering my everyday speech with my new terminology. My mum and I were watching an interior design show and I commented: 'That wall is a lovely shade of oyster,' to which my mum replied: 'Hmm, I would say it's more putty.' Ah the joys of colour. I am tempted to apply for a job at the Dulux headquarters just so I can be on the colour-naming team. Because why say red, yellow and blue when you can say vermilion, saffron and lapis lazuli?

paris questions part un

2006-09-19T17:51:00.001+01:00

I tend to ask a lot of questions about Paris. I like to read and re-read my travel with meticulous precision, making sure that I haven't missed a 'hidden gem' or an essential snippet of information about my favourite place in the world. But there are sometimes questions that I ask that are not covered by run-of-the-mill guidebooks. I know that I should never call 'garçon!' to a waiter and that I should always use the vous form when speaking to elders and people I haven't met. What I seek to find are the answers to questions that have been niggling me for a while, and some first-hand advice would be greatly appreciated.

Is it really that much of a faux pas to drink wine in bars?
When ordering lunch is it considered rude/stingy to stick with just une carafe d'eau?
Has anyone with no fashion credentials/contacts ever managed to get into a fashion show, whether that be for a relatively unknown designer or a top-name fashion house? I wouldn't mind being squished at the back or having to pay to enter.
I find myself using the laidback 'ouais' quite often - is this regarded as too informal? Obviously I know not to use it when speaking to people I don't know etc. but where does the line stop?
I read in Kate Muir's 'Insider's Guide to Paris' that the Jardin des Plantes holds free gardening lessons. Is this still the case?

I think that's all for now, but I do have one more question that is un-related to Paris but blog-related.

I'm in the process of changing the image of this blog but I'm not really up with all that technomalogical HTML palarver. The font I wish to use for my header is not supported by Blogger so I'm going to have to insert it as an image. I also want to put a picture into the header à la Relookage. How on earth would I go about doing that?

calling card

2006-09-19T17:21:00.001+01:00

The time has come to stop feeling shy about my blog... so I created these schnazzy cards to pass around to my friends and family:

I am really liking the sound of a Paris Pilgrimage! I just hope that we will all be there at the same time. I don't have exact dates of my stay yet, but I know for sure I'll be there for the whole of October 2007, since the locus of the my trip is Paris Fashion Week. So I really hope we can organise something. Ooh, maybe we should start up an elite committee of Paris-loving laydees! Can I be in charge of flyers/business cards?!

I wish, I wish, I wish

2006-09-14T16:27:00.001+01:00

I wish I was back in Paris. The night I got back I sat curled up on the couch with my travel guides, thinking about my next visit. I don't think I can wait until next year. I need macarons, I need Angelina's hot chocolate. I need the culture and the strolls through beautiful parks. I need to feel that comforting feeling of being able to navigate my way around without a map, and the welcoming 'bonjour's as I walk into a store. I need the excitement of impromptu adventures: a book launch, stumbling upon an exhibition or a night salsa dancing on the Rue de la Huchette. I miss fawning over french pooches and people-watching from café tables.

I have been five times but there are still many facets to Paris that I have not yet experienced. I want to see puppies in the windows on Rue de la Messagerie, to visit the secondhand clothing stores on Rue de la Pompe and Rue d'Alesia, to walk down the Rue du Bac and pop into Dallayou and Deyrolle. I want to try Pain Poilâne and every single macaron variety there is. I want to visit the Musées d'Orsay, Rodin, Picasso, de Mode and Maillol. I want to eat oysters at lunch with chilled white wine. I want to spend a day in the Forum des Images indulging myself with Parisian documentaries and films. I want a picnic in the philosopher's garden in Parc Bercy. I want to release a balloon with a message on from the Eiffel Tower and to buy myself tea roses on Rue Vieille du Temple.

I am expecting to be doing all these things on my own, but if anyone is in Paris this time next year, I would be over the moon if you would like to help me tick off my checklist.

Gros bisous x