One of my favorite shops, which also happens to be in the Northern Marais where I call home, is Ofr., a boutique, bookstore and gallery. Genius! While you are perusing the impressive collection of art and design books, you can stumble into the back gallery and live an art experience. If you are new to Paris, owner Alexandre Thumerelle will guide you, literally, with his very own Guide Paris.
Here too, amidst the fine art photography filled walls, you can find my hand-printed rive gauche and rive droitebags. A perfect setting for wearable art! And perfect bags to fill with books!
During my last visit I entered the creative vision of artist Jeremy Everett. What exactly did I find?
The American Heritage Dictionary. Unlike I have ever seen it.
Stay tuned for the 15 year Ofr. party on May 20th! And check here for more art events.
The sales are on in Paris! (Unless you’ve been home in bed with the flu anyone living in Paris is very much aware of this). With the sales comes temptation. Especially considering I live within meters of some of the most fashionable boutiques in Paris. I am basically cornered on all sides. Even below me is a shop which I occasionally mistake for my closet (wishful thinking?). Is it really possible to walk by these windows screaming ‘SOLDES’ and not enter? Not really. And so yesterday I tried my hand at shopping at the height of the sales, which I normally never do, alongside women who are not simply determined but on a mission to buy that one item they simply must possess. The result? I spent about 2 minutes in each shop, namely Iro, Vanessa Bruno, & sita murt/, feeling sudden hot flashes and running out, completely overwhelmed with the limitless selection and almost affordable prices. (I come from NYC, the land of the eternal sale, after all). I tend to favor the sales in weeks 3 and 4 (the sales last FIVE weeks), believing that with fewer options and lower prices (they continue to plummet weekly), I will find that one special item that was hidden in the back, and leave feeling lucky.
That being said, today I went to one of my favorite shops bimba & lola and accidentally bought the last pair or shoes that 3 other women (also with a 39.5 size foot) looked ready to pummel me for. Perhaps better not to wait until week 3, and instead follow temptation and not ignore the big red signs. Or, time to go into hiding. I will make another appearance in the shopping circuit sometime in early February.
And if you choose to hide, or don’t live in Paris, perhaps online shopping will satisfy your craving. One place to begin is the stylish site Je Ne Sais Quoi. (Even the French internet is on sale!)
Is there anything more enchanting than a snowfall in Paris? Perhaps the hidden civilization of Machu Picchu, the rock formations of Cappadocia or the emerald waters of Halong Bay… and let’s not forget about India… but still, having seen so much of the world, the beauty of Paris is unique. As though the city were not solemnly spectacular enough clad in it’s usual hues of gray blanketed by a sky of blue and pink. A coat of white creates an even greater feeling of serenity. Mostly due to the fact that the city almost literally shuts down. All sense of order is lost and even the trusted boulangerie might be taking a snow day. All adding to the appeal of a city that sleeps. Especially in the winter.
Before the snow turned to hail and inevitably ice, I captured a little beauty of my Haute Marais, at that perfect moment when the light was falling as I so eloquently tried not to.
The Picasso Museum looking very dignified in it’s coat of winter white.
Is this not one of the most magical streets in the world?
Nuit Blanche is one of my favorite nights in Paris. My first was last year and immediately I became a fan of this night of organized creative chaos. The city comes to frenetic life from dusk until dawn. Around every corner an art installation waits to be discovered, in churches, hospitals, gardens…virtually everywhere. My favorite exhibits are often those found by accident, such as the image of a person sleeping, found in a boutique in the Marais, a light installation by Frédérique Chauveau.
Long sheer illuminated curtains, blowing in the wind at the Swedish Institute…eerily romantic.
Love the Differences in many languages by Michelangelo Pistoletto…love the cultural melange!
Atsara created one of my favorite light installations, hidden in a courtyard on Isle Saint Louis.
The rose window of Notre Dame lit up beneath a pitch plack sky, by Thierry Dreyfus.
A perfect grand finale…at 3am.
Paris is the world’s fashion capital. And nowhere else is this more evident than on the streets of this fashionistas gone wild city. I’m lucky to be living in what I consider one of the most fashionable neighborhoods, the Marais. The streets keep me informed of the latest styles and colors, keeping me inspired in my own world of creation and design. I’m not one to follow too many trends, in my personal style nor in my designing, but do appreciate what’s ‘in vogue’ and enjoy this ever evolving creative medium called dress. I shared a few thoughts upon arrival one year ago during my first Fashion Week in Paris. And again in ‘the look of a Parisian’, as another Fashion week approached.
The streets of Paris will remain my all-time favorite perpetual fashion show. Here are a few recent ‘street looks a la Parisienne’. This year however, at the invitation of Melissa, a fellow expat and blogger, I finally had a chance to see what goes on behind closed doors. Specifically, the doors of Galerie de Minéralogie. Where else but in Paris do you attend a fashion show in a history museum?
Spanish designer Amaya Arzuaga proved to have chosen the perfect venue to reveal her geometric designs evoking caterpillars, butterflies and other fauna. More on Melissa’s blog: Pret Moi Paris.
My first August in Paris. Without the Parisians. Without the comforts of local boulangeries and bistros. Equally, without the discomforts of cafes overflowing with locals. Most of my neigborhood haunts are closed, as are most well regarded restaurants. The owners have resigned to their annual month long holiday. Hard to believe for someone coming from the USA, where to close, even for a long weekend, would mean to lose business, which would inevitably lead to demise. Not so in Paris. Perhaps these frequented spots know their value too well. They know their customer will return, as they do every year come September when the city breathes life again.
These days the streets are filled with international faces and sounds, a melody of English mixed with Spanish and Italian, among others. My place has become somewhere in between these curious tourists and the confidant locals who remain. Many of whom spend long afternoons upon the sandy shores of the Seine called Paris Plage, lasting until August 20th. Not a bad option for a sunny day.
This time is ideal to appreciate all the luxuries, both food related and other, that can easily be taken for granted. It is a time for stillness and reflection. James Morgan so well articulates the feeling of August in Paris in The Longest Sunday, ‘Coffee, Bach, the newspaper, brunch, a walk in the park, the knowledge that no one else is working—what could be better than that?’ Absolutely nothing.
There exist many activities to quiet the mind, far away from the toil of the tourists. Visits to hidden gardens, antique markets and museums, those often walked by but never entered. Now is the time. One of my favorite August activities is the pique-nique. A simple recipe. Close friends, often mixed with a few new ones. A carefully chosen selection of cheeses and fruit, a good bottle of wine and a glorious sunset.
Maybe one day I too will dream beneath another summer horizon, but until then I will enjoy this one.
