As a mentor once told me, it’s always free to ask. What’s not always free is the answer. Luckily for me, from my last SOS post I got help, directly from Paris. Or maybe I should get help, once you see the rest of my photos. But let’s face it, where there’s a kitschy Karl Lagerfeld anything, I’m sure to be on it like bees to honey. So here’s my KL for Sephora poupée:
He’s not as substantial as my Tokidoki KL doll, but his white yarn hair just kills me!
As it turns out, the snowglobe is as charming in person as it looked in the press photos:
Ahh, I love it when travel coincides with a fun fashion collaboration!
Tags: collaboration, Karl Lagerfeld for Sephora, Paris, poupée, snowglobe
So just how productive was Paris? I called up one of my favorite Chanel boutiques and lucked into speaking with a lovely sales associate. She patiently researched their inventory for the bags I inquired about and promised she’d get back to me. The weekend passed and after a few missed calls I get the message that un sac has arrived for me! We don’t have to discuss how rough it was to fall asleep last night, do we, as I was anxious to time my call exactly at store opening this morning?
Well, turns out she’s not working today, but they assured me the bag, whichever it is, is safely on reserve until I can speak with her on Thursday. Good thing I have comfort food to settle my bag anxieties…did I already tell you how satisfying something as simple as a baguette and some favorite cheese (in my case it’s the Comté) can be?
Nineteen more hours till I find out which bag next makes the adoption list. Good thing there’s a whole lot of “comfort” food around here…a girl could die happily from a sugar high!
So many pastries and only one stomach…
It’s Friday here, the markets are still in free fall around the world, Mother Nature won’t let up with the natural disasters (did you hear about that freak storm at the concert in Hasselt, Belgium right after the one in Indiana?), and I just finally watched the documentary Waiting For Superman, so things are bleary.
I woke up this morning asking myself where do average Janes like me find inspiration to regain a bit of lightness in our steps as we trudge through another tough week of more bad news? I suppose some of us recharge our emotional fuel tanks by watching our (fur)kids sleep …
or find a bit of escape by sitting through reality shows. Or, especially in my case, reminisce about one Sunday afternoon in Paris. Let me take you back to that one Spring day, when the streets were emptied of people who were now either at mass or spending time indoors with their families…which was great for me to take in all the windows without people crowding my view:
But the view I was most looking forward to was behind these doors:
The hunt for orange, as in that famous orange box that Hermes goodies come in, began for me over a decade ago. I’ve dabbled in those H scarves and shoes and have coveted an English saddle for a very long time. And I don’t even have a horse, at least not one that isn’t imaginary anyway. I thought about getting one customized and then just displaying it in my office. Saddle, not horse. But let’s not go there. Let’s go back to the real story.
Everyone who loves handbags, for better or for worse, knows that sooner or later the trail stops at the doors of Hermes. Considered a holy grail for many fashionistas, the Hermes Birkin or Kelly is “the one” to have. Even in the aftermarket, the price can be prohibitive. The fact that the Birkin is so difficult to get even at full retail price drives some worshipers to brinks of insanity, enduring games of politics with the sales associates in order to score a bag. As a consumer, I prefer to be in the driver’s seat and not have to work so hard for the honor of buying a bag, which probably explains why I’ve yet to own a Birkin. Or maybe it’s something else.
The bag is too heavy. The bag is too mumsy looking. The bag is a pain to open and shut. So the naysayers tell me. I do agree a little. Yes, it’s heavy even when empty, and yes I’d probably leave it opened while carrying it so I wouldn’t have to fuss with it. And yes, it does look rather conservative. And worst of all, it’s never available in any of the H boutiques that I’ve visited to even try on for size. So for over ten years I would think about the Birkin and come home with something else.
But a couple of years ago, I spotted a woman in rainy Venice carrying a gray ostrich Birkin that matched the color of the clouds. I still can’t get this visual out of my head. She stood across from me on the water bus and I missed my stop because I was too busy staring at her bag. Fast forward to this Sunday in Paris, and…
Be still my heart.
This blog is about happy endings, usually, but not today. I called the boutique the next day but the bag was not for sale. They were kind enough to give me all the information about the bag, but just not the bag. So the hunt goes on.
Sometimes I believe I want to not find it just yet, so that I have something to motivate me to work even harder. And maybe I’m more about the chase than the actual kill, which is often anticlimactic in my book. So you see, the hunt is what puts lightness in my steps and inspires me to get through a week of bad news. How about you?
Tags: Hasselt, Hermes, Hermes Birkin, Hermes Kelly, ostrich, Paris, Venice
If you know me, you’d agree that I’m better at making reservations than dinner itself, but I’m always up for an adventure in the kitchen. So while visiting my friends–who happen to love dim sum–in Europe last month, I tested our friendship by venturing into their kitchen and then making them eat the hagow I dared to make after watching a how-to video on youtube:
Written waivers aside, we chowed down on the steamed shrimp dumplings which were neither pretty nor particularly tasty–but nothing a bit of soy sauce and Belgian beer can’t fix! When friends tell you your cooking is awesome, and you know it so isn’t, they become family. And btw, maybe watching an instructional youtube video in a language you don’t understand (Mandarin) is not such a great idea. I’m sure the flavor was lost in the translation!
Days later, while passing through Paris, still with a taste for real dim sum in my mouth, I checked out a restaurant heavily recommended on tripadvisor:
Definitely prettier than what I could make, but taste-wise? I’m going to say whoever that was in the kitchen was not Chinese. But once again, nothing a little soy sauce and champagne can’t fix. I won’t mention the restaurant’s name because I don’t think you should eat there.
Here are a few pics from the streets of Chinatown in Paris:
Weeks later, I thought I’d check out the dim sum in London’s Chinatown,
this time without relying on (ill) advice from tripadvisor and hit the jackpot at the Chuen Cheng Ku Restaurant, which actually has trolley service.
Now, that’s some good stuff. In fact, so good I went back for a second visit on the day of the Royal wedding. People on the street told me the Chinese restaurants would be open for sure even on bank holidays, and since the food was so delicious the first time, it was an easy choice after a long day of navigating the crowds in London.
So that’s my tale of three dim sums. Moral of the story is, let’s leave the cooking to professionals!
Tags: Chinatown, Chuen Cheng Ku Restaurant, dim sum, London, Paris
Though my last blog entry left you in Paris, I’ve since moved on to London in the last few days. Royal wedding fever is everywhere in the city (and all the round the world I suppose)…
but I’m battling an even more royal case of hay fever (the daily walks through the parks are probably not a great idea!) which culminated a few nights ago with the ambulance arriving at my hotel room. More on that later and many more photos/stories about one of my favorite cities in the world when I am in better form. I also will write more about Paris.
But for now on this Friday, April 29, 2011, just a few more pics of London…
before I go out there and get lost among the crowd of millions in soaking up the party atmosphere of the Royal Wedding. Come with?
Tags: London, Paris, Royal Wedding
