Paris Fashion Week SS 14

SS 14 is fashion speak for Spring/Summer 2014, and this being fall 2013, its that time of year again… Fashion Week. I’ve got Le Gastro, which is a charming local way of saying a tummy bug, so it wasn’t sure that I was going to be able to drag myself out into the glorious Paris sunshine and start shooting, but I had worked so hard getting the fashion show invites and I really do love seeing all those creative types out there doing their thing, I simply could not stay put. So while all the other girls were out there sporting their ‘it’ bags, I was sporting the bags under my eyes and taking as many clichés as I could get away with. Here is what I saw yesterday;Screen shot 2013-09-25 at 1.42.19 PM Screen shot 2013-09-25 at 1.42.03 PM Screen shot 2013-09-25 at 1.41.40 PM Screen shot 2013-09-25 at 1.40.32 PM Screen shot 2013-09-25 at 1.40.12 PM

Date Night // Gordon Ramsay, Trianon Palace

Gordon RamsayI was recently inspired to sit down and write a personal Top Ten list of my favorite restaurants in the world. I think I made it to number 6. It’s not that I haven’t had a lot of amazing places, but while creating the list, I realized that often, it was the company and the magic of the moment that made the place so memorable. So it was not always the restaurant, or the chef, but the meal that was so amazing. Sometimes these meals weren’t even in a restaurant; like the cold winter’s night in Montréal when a friend’s father got off a plane from Europe, made us a traditional Hungarian vegetable soup, cut into a perfectly ripe Reblochon cheese and opened up some amazing bottles of Burgundy AND Bordeaux that had been sitting in his cave in Belgium. That was over 20 years ago and I still remember the sweetness of those vegetables in the soup and the perfect harmony of the wine and cheese. It was the first time I’d had a concert on my palette. But not the last.

It happened again, just last week at the Gordon Ramsey restaurant at the Trianon Palace at Versailles. A much fancier, more formal address than a close friend’s dining room, the restaurant is palatial, yet has managed to strike a warm, welcoming note.

We started our evening with a drink in the bar. While enjoying our cocktails we were handed menus and invited to make our choice before even heading to our table. This is a French tradition I’ve only ever experienced once before, so it still surprises me. I was soon surprised again, by the arrival of our very fun, very elegant amuses buches… soft boiled eggs with foies gras and other delicacies blended in. One for the boy, a different one for the girl. It was a play on flavours and textures with a visual game of colors and shapes. The overture had begun and it was hitting the perfect notes!

We were escorted to our table and the real performance began. Chef Ramsay is all about ingredients. I don’t think I saw one bit of foam the entire evening. I saw perfect little girolle mushrooms, tear drop shaped fig halves and cucumber slices. All foods I could distinctly identify with my eyes and my taste buds. It was refreshingly real and delightful. We enjoyed a lobster raviolo and yellow tuna with cèpes. Mushrooms where in just about every dish as the chef took advantage of the season’s bounty. It was earthy and local and divine. And everything was served on simple, yet incredible gorgeous porcelain, which should not make a difference, but it did.

The sommelier had introduced himself in the bar, having already memorised our orders and prepared with a list of suggestions, that was flexible to both our palettes and our budget. His choice married perfectly, ringing true with every course.

For dessert we went a little over board, selecting their gourmand plate with 4 or 5 different desserts to share. I don’t regret the excess. It as worth every calorie. So good, that I even order a pot of verveine, knowing it would come with a small tray of extra goodies. I was not disappointed with the playful finale of housemade fraise tagadas (a candy that the French adore), nutella (ish) fillled chocolates and fruit jellies.

And now I have number 7 for theTop Ten best restaurants in my little world.

 

 

 

 

 

Throw away the key

VFNO

If fashion is a crime, I’ve got me a partner in the depraved practice and that would be my friend  Miss Madame Ella Coquine. Ella and I have been hitting up fashion events together ever since we first met. Along with Paris, great food and the written word, it is one of our “things”. So last night we headed out together for Vogue’s Fashion Night Out.

Fashion bloggers hard at work

Fashion bloggers hard at work

If you haven’t been following this for the past year and if you don’t live in a large city, you may not know that VFNO is an international event hosted by Vogue magazine, which sponsors open house parties in designer boutiques for fashionistas in cities like London, NYC, Tokyo and Paris. Last year the party was open to pretty much everyone, all you needed as an invite and you could walk through the door of pretty much any boutique. This year they were being somewhat more exclusive and you could often only come in if the store had invited you. Fortunately, we’d been invited to a couple of places.

Ella and I weren’t too torn up about the exclusivity. Our favorite destination on VFNO is Roger Vivier. I love that Inès will be in the house, Ella loves the live music. Inès, of course, being Inès de la Fressange, the queen of Parisienne chic and my inspiration for Inès sez…

A little bling on the musician and the camera man!!!

A little bling on the musician and the camera man!!!

This year we walked in the door with our author friend, Juliette Sobanet, her friend Kate and the Paris-based Brazilian actress Thaïs Sobreira . At the top of the stairs the two of froze. There, less than a metre away stood Inès talking quietly with Ella’s favorite local musician (so sorry, can not remember his name and she does not have a search function on her blog). The two of them, the two of us. Wow. Not that either of them know that either of us exists, but we were both quite pleased. Their conversation ended and something inexplicable came over me. I grabbed Ella’s hand and introduced her to her musician man, telling him that his promoter loves her blog and is constantly sending her free tickets to his concerts because he loves her reviews of their work. I didn’t think of the position this was putting her in, I just did it, grabbing her phone to sneak a few photos as they spoke.

Screen shot 2013-09-18 at 3.34.37 PMA few minutes later Ella got her revenge by getting Inès attention and asking for a photo. Ella got such great shots, it looks like Inès and I are old friends! We were even and I really could not have been more thrilled. I chatted with Inès, folks. She still doesn’t know who I am, but she is just as lovely as I had always imagined.

It was an exciting start to a fantastic evening that involved plenty of Ruinart, some great music, an astonishing amount of fashion eye candy and lots of giggles.

Feeling like Will and Kate…

Trianon Palace HotelWe drove up the pale gravel driveway in the pouring rain. I was apprehensive, to say the least. This trip was a birthday present for Mr French, who travels so much for work that I usually organize more local celebrations. Then, there had been a series of complications with our reservations, my bank card had gone MIA so the birthday boy was going to have to pay, and now, the rain.

A valet opened the car door and I headed to reception where my heart sank worried Mr French was going to feel like this was more business than pleasure when I saw the long line of other guests. The line went quickly and soon the receptionist was giving us a huge smile. A REALLY huge smile that had me feeling like we were on Candid Camera. She handed us the key card telling us we’d received an upgrade to a suite. With a view. I shrugged nonchalantly and made our way to the elevator, pushing number 6. It didn’t work. The second elevator didn’t go to the 6th floor and the staircase ended at the 5th floor. I looked for the hidden camera, feeling like a clown in a comedy of errors.

The manager had to explain how to get to our room. We climbed the stairs, opened the door and our jaws dropped. The mood changed from a SNL skit to a fairy tale in an instant and I started looking for pumpkins, mice or a glass slipper. We were at the Trianon Palace Hotel, so its not that strange that I felt like a princess, but this suite was truly royal with three rooms, a private balcony and a view of the Chateau de Versailles. Happy Birthday, my deserving prince!

As lovely as it was, we could not spend all day in our room(s). We had to get out and Versailles has an interesting antiques quartier that Mr French likes to explore. First, we stopped at Les Halles, Notre Dame indoor market to admire the lovely fall harvest along the way. It looked so tempting that Mr French almost wished we had access to a kitchen. Almost..

Trianon Palace poolThe rain was still coming down, so we clung to each other under our umbrella throughout the afternoon. It was terribly romantic until even the umbrella was saturated, our British rain coats soaked through and our shoes sopping wet. We returned to the hotel cold and damp, anxious to warm up in their gym. But then we got to the room and there were snacks waiting for us with house made marshmallows, and the mosaic tiled bathroom floor was heated and everything was so cozy, we just curled up to enjoy the moment; the sound of the rain beating the zinc roof above our heads, sheets of water rolling down the oeil de boeuf windows, the château in the background.

Its was delicious knowing that we were safe from the elements, and that we wouldn’t be needing our (very wet) coats until the next morning. Eventually we made our way down to the gym, then the pool where we planned to simply relax, but at nearly 20 meters long, this was almost a lap pool and we were off, burning calories in anticipation of the night’s dinner at the two star Gordon Ramsay restaurant (article coming Friday).

petiti Dej Trianon Palace hotelHours later,I headed out of our room dressed to the nines, a package of silk, leather and wool wrapped in pearls absolutely thrilled to leave behind my coat and handbag. I returned much later than night padding along the carpeted corridors, those 3″ heels comfortably in hand.

The night was a dream. The morning even more so, as we opened our eyes to blue skies, the offspring of Marie Antoinette’s livestock in the fields below, munching away on dew-dressed blades of grass. Sumptuous.

Petiti Dej Trianon Palace hotelAwake and ready to go, we ran around the Grand Canal (8km) as the sun drew mist from the trees, before heading back to our suite for a picture perfect breakfast in the sunshine on our private balcony over looking the chateau. We sat there for hours, “lizarding” in the autumn sunshine, thanking our fairy godmother (and the management of the Trianon Palace Hotel) for this truly regal get away.

Date Night // Jamin

Jamin
A few months ago I had a date with my friend Jane from Ohio. I was reviewing the restaurant Jamin, in the posh 16th, for The Girls Guide Paris. It was one of the first scorchers of the summer so I had been thrilled to enter the dimly lit, mildly air conditioned room. Knowing I was very early for our reservation, the staff immediately served me a flûte and I took a moment to look around the room; chocolate colored walls, plush seats and I was surrounded by couples. Romance was in the air.

Screen shot 2013-09-13 at 12.02.51 PMWhich was perfect because Jane had a story to tell me and I was eager to listen. As her 50’s loomed, Jane started making some major life changes. She lost 85 lbs. She retired. And she came to Paris, traveling alone for the first time in her life. I met Jane on a cycling trip, when all of this had already happened. At dinner, just as her delicious white asparagus arrived and I bit into a succulent shrimp ravioli, Jane started sharing the rest of her tale.

After that first solo trip Jane started to fall in love. With Paris. Like all torrid affairs, there was a terrifying aspect. Being alone was not always easy, the thought of empty nights and listless afternoons was daunting, but the allure of the City of Lights was too hard to resist. Jane returned. Again, and again, each time staying a bit longer.

And each time making more and more friends until she had a community here with more invitations than she could possibly accept. It was wonderful, but Jane confided in me that she wanted more. As much as she loved it all, she was sure she’d love it more if she had someone to share it with, but how to find him?

Screen shot 2013-09-13 at 12.02.15 PMOur main courses arrived, the waiter being so discreet it was the succulent smell of her faux filet and the tantalizing aroma of a coconut carrot sauce with my seabass that brought us back to the present. When Jane had last left Paris we were at the “how to find him?” chapter of her story. Over our entrées she had been telling me about a hike her friends had taken in the Kentucky mountains.

They had been enjoying an early spring day away from the office when they met a man. Personally, I meet a solo man in the woods and I freeze, playing dead until he has moved on, but Jane’s friends are braver than I. They started chatting him up. He was a charming man, with sparkling blues eyes and a warm smile. As they parted company that evening, on of Jane’s friends thought of her and said to this single man, “If you’d ever like to start dating someone, I’ve got someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

A few days later Jane’s phone rang. It was the man and he was asking her out on a date. Three months late we were at Jamin and she was falling in love. With the man. This trip had been planned months before their meeting and as we sat there dining in Paris, the man was in Kentucky getting his very first passport to join Jane in a few short days. A story as romantic as Jamin, with an ending as perfectly sweet and refreshing as the raspberries that ended   of our meal.

ps// This post was written FIVE months after our meal and I still remembered both my entrée and Jane’s main dish. The meal was that good!!!

Shopping & Other Stories

& Other StoriesIts fall, the leaves are turning, the skies are grey and E is packing up for her sophomore year at college in the US. Being Parisienne, an important part of getting ready includes stocking up on local fashion and today we had a date to shop. E, my hard working, very reasonable, responsible teen suggested we head to the Faubourg St Honoré (cue in the sound of a stereo needle scratching across a vinyl lp). Yes, we’re talking that infamous street that is home to the likes of Dior, Gucci and Chanel. Had she fallen on her head? Did we need to see a doctor? I decided that she had meant “window” shopping, which sounded perfect to my bottom line, so we headed out the door, a trendy lunch & Other Stories in our future.

& Other Stories Lunch was lovely. But today I’m here to tell you about & Other Stories. Yes, its on one of the most expensive, trendiest streets on the world where 3000€ is considered normal for a coat (cashmere, Gucci, it looked divine) and boots are rarely designed for walking. And yes, it is in a gorgeous, light filled space with a glass enclosed stair case and plenty of space. The customers carry handbags with a pedigree. But a quick look at the price tags and I looked at E with new found respect. Beautiful, genuine leather handbags for under 100€.

The designs were fresh and original, the fabrics often authentic silk, wool or leather. The staff was present and friendly. So friendly, that I asked the very charming Danielle in the cosmetics section where we had landed.

Screen shot 2013-09-11 at 5.00.35 PM& Other Stories, she was delightfully proud to share, is the latest project of the Swedish H&M chain. Exclusively for women, the shop has clothing, but really focuses on cosmetics and accessories. High quality cosmetics with a conscious. They have a recycling scheme for used bottles and offer customers a 10% discount for participating. And original accessories made by serious designers. I think there were at least 6 pairs of shoes that had me whining, “I, want”! Wooden heeled shoes that would look perfect with a sober Jil Sanders tunic, or laser cut leather boots that were crying for Alaïa.

The prices for everything were on par with what they’re asking for the entirely less fashionable, synthetic fibre clothing at the grungy Monoprix up the street from our home. And was a wonderful afternoon, and we ended it by indulging in an onctuous hot chocolate next door chez Jean Paul Hévin. Ain’t life sweet?

 

Dior Institut at the Plaza Athenée

Dior Institute

Last winter I tested a handful of Paris spas. At first, I was on the quest to eliminate a black head that was more stubborn than your average teen. Once that was taken care of, I still had a slew of appointments to honor, and it being a cold, grey winter, I was thrilled to oblige! And this being the first grey, rainy day of La Rentrée, it seems like the perfect moment to cozy up to some luxurious memories.

Plaza Athenée

Next on my list was the Dior Institute at the Plaza Athenée. The Plaza is the only place left in Paris that still intimidates me, it is so terribly chic. Dior is, well, DIOR, and Dior on the avenue Montaigne inside the Plaza Athenée is the quintessence of Paris. I was delighted for the adventure!

But I was also working full-time at an agency in the center of Paris and my appointment was for lunch time.  I showed up at the office that morning a bit more dressed than any of my co-workers. At the stroke of noon, I headed out the door, dove into the metro and I was off with the delicious feeling that I was leading some kind of a double life.

The top hatted doorman saw me in and the concierge pointed the way. What exactly about this place intimidates me? Surely not the friendly staff! Downstairs, an elegantly (Dior) suited hostess showed me to the changing room with its hammam and large shower and invited me to join her in the rest area when I was ready.

The rest area. I am probably not the best person to be testing spas because I am so happy about getting a treatment, that I am not the most critical critic. The little extras are what matter to me, things like all those pools I’ve been enjoying, lovely spaces and tempting treats. There was no pool, but the rest area is a true haven, with Dior designed lounges where you sit and unwind as they bring you a tea and platter of healthy gourmet treats; dried fruits with fresh dates and the best little muffin I’ve ever had. I may have been purring at this point and the treatment had nut yet begun!

My appointment was for a facial. Another elegant woman came to get me in the rest area. The esthetician. She examined my skin and pointed out that its quite dry and rather sensitive, then went to work almost like a medical professional. I was in good hands, that much was certain and the facial ended with an extra bonus of a light make-over, for additional pampering and to ensure I’d be ready to return to the office. It wasn’t easy to tear myself away from this sumptuous spa where I really felt like a princess in a palace, but it was lovely having this little secret under my smile as I returned to work for the day.

+ The undeniable luxury, welcome snacks and total professionalism //  – No pool

Facials starting at 180€

Date Night // Arzak

ArzakEvery summer we head to Hossegor, a quaint town on the Atlantic coast, just a few minutes north of the Basque region. And every year, in what feels like a moment of insane decadence, we cross the border into Spain. For a meal. To a Californian the idea of going to another country for a meal, well, its mind boggling. But its only a 45 minute drive to San Sebastien, the Michelin star capital of the world.

This year, as a surprise for Mr French, I booked a table for two at Arzak, one of the best known restaurants in the city. I had a hunch we’d appreciate a romantic escape from a family holiday.

We spent the morning body boarding, then I threw on something casual for an afternoon savouring Spain. We visited the beach, did some shopping, and had a bracing jolt of caffeine before heading back to the car which I used as a dressing room. Trying to keep my knees from hitting the gear shift, my elbows flying in every direction, I guided Mr French with the iPhone gps while getting myself gussied up. Miraculously we got there without an incident.

“There” being a unassuming building that looked like it had been a road side inn for local truckers (later research reveals that is exactly what it had been). Walking through the doors we entered another world, both warm and modern. “Hello,” I chirped to the lovely lady at the bar, “we have reservations.” I gave our name. She couldn’t find us on the list. I gave our reservation number. She couldn’t find that, either. I handed her the confirmation email I’d printed out. “Oh, you’ve got the wrong day” she observed.

I was about to be sick, right there on the designer carpet. We’d been looking forward to this evening for weeks and the logistics with a group of ten in Hossegor had been nothing short of Herculean. Fortunately, at that very moment a manager appeared and pointed out that I had the right date, their agenda was simply on the wrong page. Disaster averted. Our name was there and all was right with the world.

Automatic sliding glass doors led us to a contemporary dining room, full of diners and a bustling staff. The sommelier was hugging a client at the table next to us, the maître d’ warmly greeting a group of regulars from Madrid.

A glass of the local white for Mr French, the (most excellent) house cocktail for me. The amuse bouches soonstarted to arrive… unexpected blends of fruit and fish and an exciting play on textures served on unique dishes, like a crushed beer can. The party had begun!

The maitre d’ guided us patiently through the menu, informing us that all the main dishes were available in half portions so guests could try alot of different flavours without over doing it. I loved the idea.

Screen shot 2013-09-07 at 10.03.32 AMMoments later a waitress swooped by our table serving me a plate of ocean waves. I am not being poetic. My plate was a computer tablet with a video of ocean waves, the sound of them crashing against the shore flavouring my lobster dish.

This could sound incredibly tacky and over wrought, but it wasn’t. The chef, Elena Arzak Espina, is a true Basque; she works hard but loves to play. This is evident throughout the meal, and it took what was some very serious tasting and made it fun. Every now and again Elena would come out of the kitchen to greet guests and ensure a good time was had by all. She was kind to everyone, giving the same attention to her Spanish regulars as she gave to the neon-clad, name-dropping tourists who clearly knew nothing about food. She even spent several moments with the awkward French couple in the corner who never have any idea what to say to the chef (that would be us).

ArzakOf course, you don’t go to a restaurant like this for the scene. You go for the food and it was excellent. My taste buds are craving the crab starter as I write this and I almost asked for more of the pigeon and the lamb. The desserts were so delicious I regretted we’d agree to share only two of them.

A three star restaurant in Paris is theater. There is an entire performance that surrounds what is served and when and how. At Arzak its not theater, its a party, with the guests an important part of the mix. It was fun, and refreshing, and of course, delicious. As we left, Elena was there to say good bye, recommending other restaurants in the area and offering us a bottle of the house wine as a souvenir to enjoy in Paris. Let the party go on!

Under where? Under there!

I’ve got a thing for underwear. Especially when it is French and silky This is not a very well kept secret, so it was not at all surprising when my phone started ringing off the hook (my kids would NOT understand that expression, it probably belongs in a literary archive and not in this post) with calls from friends telling me about the La Mécanique des Dessous exhibit at the Union des Arts Décoratifs.

The title doesn’t sound half as sexy as the term lingèrie and that is because ever since around the 14th century underwear has been first and foremost all about foundations and support. Fans Shakespeare and Commedia dell’Arte are some of the few visitors to the show who will not be surprised to learn that once upon a time men wore reinforced structures called codpieces, to exaggerate their, hmmm…. manly prowess. For many,  seeing one hammered into a suit of armor is a highlight of this collection.

Screen shot 2013-08-19 at 5.32.41 PMProof positive that I’m not the only one who has reverence for foundations; the French take their undergarments very seriously and this exhibit is a celebration of the architectural creativity that has gone into making the perfect silhouette. I loved seeing the mechanical device that was used to lift those ridiculously wide skirts that Marie Antoinette and her friends would wear. I had always imagined them side stepping through doors, but the metal frames, called paniers, that held the skirts out could be lifted up with a string, allowing the skirt to fall flat ans the wearer to enter a room.

Screen shot 2013-08-19 at 5.32.50 PMOther highlights include seeing the metal frames that were used to support Queen Elizabeth style ruffs, modern day models that showed haw many of the under garments worked, a series of film clips featuring lingèrie scenes, vintage underwear ads, and an area for trying on corsets and crinolines. That is a lot of highlights for a relatively small show and I was not the only one who loved it. Attended with my friend Karen, who had brought along an article by fashion editor, Suzy Menkes that had been published earlier in the week. Not only had she loved it, but she had learned a bit herself.

Finally, a word about the Union. It is the other museum in the Louvre Palace. Very few people even know there IS another museum in the Louvre, but there is and it is the national Decorative Arts museum, featuring furniture, jewelery and design from across the ages. It would be hard to find a more central location and unlike the Louvre Museum, it is open Tuesday, which is kind of a bonus.

ps photos were not allowed, so these ones are dark and elusive, teasing you like lingèrie should!

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