La Coquette

I must have told my parents their Hibiscus tree looked great on three separate occasions

I feel like I'm becoming more mature and less like a wild animal you might have trapped while it was stealing your garbage one night.  Mature people are always noticing flowers and talking about how gorgeous flowers are and I used to be like, "Eh, what flowers?"  I thought it was some sixth sense.  I would never notice flowers unless they were a gift to me or someone said something ilke "Hey, look at those pretty flowers over there." 

And now I have crossed over.  I am always talking about flowers (Did you know that May and June is when the countryside is full of wild poppies?) and asking my great aunts to walk me through their gardens and also I bought a jardiniere for my windowsill this spring. 

The little Latin signs at the Jardin des Plantes?  I will learn all of them.  Because botanical snobbery is SO going to up my womanly value on dates and also, look very good on my resume. 

Kathleen and Dax sent these amazing flowers to my family in sympathy and they were a real bright spot in our home.  My parents loved them and I took no less than 84 pictures of them.* 

Also, if today is Tuesday, I am back in France. 

*I don't actually know what they are and I forgot to call the florist before I left town.  Feel free to tell me and help in my quest to become a flower geek. 

Pierre Hermé Macaron Box of Splendor

Behold, one of the reasons I love living in Paris.  You can buy a pick and mix box* of macarons, go to the Café de la Mairie with a friend and share nibbles over coffee until you pass out.  I also sometimes buy two or three (even just one--they don’t mind) at La Grande Epicerie and eat them in the park in front of The Bon Marché.  (Or as I've started to call it--air quotes intentional--"Best Buy.")

*The flavors are not listed on the website; I am ruined.   
Update:  Thanks to Stefanie for listing the flavors in the comments! 

The Zetter Hotel

You know how at Trader Joe’s, they might not have your favorite exotic food item one day because, perhaps, their suppliers in Chile are striking?  And you know how the packaging isn’t fancy and self-sealing, and the cereal doesn’t even come in a box, but the quality/price ratio is really awesome?  You know how IKEA makes you assemble every god damned thing yourself, but in the end, you have something that looks pretty cool, for less than you would have spent at Home Depot?

SOMEONE HAS APPLIED THESE PRINCIPLES TO A HOTEL and it’s called The Zetter, and we stayed there in London, and it was good!

Trust me, I’ve always been the type to say, I don’t care what kind of flea bag joint you put me in, I want to see the city (and eat really good food and buy really, really fancy underwear, apparently).  But, I went to the Zetter's website (after discovering it through Time Out) and saw that the Evening Standard had spoken and the words they spoke were good. 

“The stylishness of Babington House at Holiday Inn prices.”

Running through my head at the exact moment that I read this:  I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT BABINGTON HOUSE IS AND I AM READY TO SELL MY VINTAGE CHANEL SCARF TO STAY AT THIS PLACE.  (Babington house, I now know, is a country outpost of the London/New York Soho House.  If you don’t know what the Soho House is, then that’s just so cute.  Can I carry you in my pocket the next time I have to interact with scary fashion people?)

So, yes, as Time Out says, “You don’t get ego-sopping luxuries bumping up your room rates, but stuff you need.”

Indeed.  “A great bed, a superb shower and cutting edge in–room entertainment,” according to the website.  True.  But to be fair, there’s stuff you don’t need too.  Adorable, charming, stuff that will endear your friggin pants off.  Like beat up, yet oh, so decor-friendly books, looking for all the world like props in a Wes Anderson film.  And people, there is nothing like assuming The Anderson Aesthetic to make me get really hot and want to brag about you to the internet. 

Will someone please tell me what font that is because I am ready to order my unborn children's birth announcements.  Swoon. 

And I only tell you of this place's greatness because there are some who will look at my pictures from London (they are coming, I SWEAR--minor technical glitch involving two cameras, one of which is now stateside) and some of you will think, what?  They went to London for three days and all they did was shop and eat? Oh no, no my  friends, we also hotel'd.  HARD.  We showed those English candy-assed goose pillows and high thread count sheets HOW US YANKEES DO IT.   DAMN STRAIGHT, Y'ALL!  We FROLICKED under that “Raindance” shower head and PLAYED!  PLAYED GLEEFULLY with all those high-tech nerd gadgets like the ginormous digital music library, ambient pink mood lighting, and vending machine which sold mini G & T's.  Well, you know, we played with all that high-tech geek shit as soon as we could figure out how in God's name to make it all work.

Picture #1:  What zee fuck?
Picture #2:  No.  SERIOUSLY.  WZF?!!*   

(The lighting, it was tricky.  Whole can of worms....)

But, in all earnestness, I have my mother to thank for being so spoily and making those two nights possible (it was a late birthday present). Her chipping in upgraded us from the 30 GBP sketch-dungeon I was bidding for (on a website called "Amazing Deals!" that did NOT provide any pictures and for all I know was located in the midst of a project of crack houses.)

The Zett-AH, on the other hand, (at, ahem, 110 GBP a night, because apparently the Holiday Inn doesn't come cheap in England), is located in Clerkenwell, a quartier which, according to The Times..."is totally hot right now."  In all earnestness, I have to agree. 

*Obviously, a frenchified homage to Brando and his beloved Romanian wife, Alex.  Her "Vat the fuck?" is truly classic. 

Madame André and the Love Graffiti

Chloe, wife of Parisian graffiti artist Monsieur André, in her store Madame André at 34, rue du Mont-Thabor.

It is purported, amongst most fashion circles, that Kate Moss was the initiator of the charm trend.  I’m here to tell you most fashion circles would be wrong.  It was La Coquette.  La Coquette loves the charms.  Dangling, oh so jauntily, from my bag at this moment, in fact, is the Murakami-designed Smiling Cherry keychain.  (It came with the Louis Vuitton show invitations.  When interning at a fashion magazine, you are paid in such things--in cherry keychains designed by Japanese artists and in BEATINGS.  Right after that, they plant a canary yellow diamond where your soul should be).  Sorry, where was I?  Ah oui, charms.  I also have some vintage French keychains that I procured from the Porte de Vanves fleamarket, and I covet the gremlin-y Prada “monster” charms.

I was thus interested to see, while flipping through French Elle on a recent train ride, some punky, cool little charms one can buy at a store called Madame André.  The name “Madame André” sounded that alarm in my head that signals “It is now the eleventh time you have read about this store and you have yet to check it out--you are NOT in the know.”  So I dutifully wrote in my notebook the words, “Madame André - charms,”  and finding myself in the premier arrondissement Saturday, I decided it was high time to investigate. 

Obsession of the Week: Les Bougies de Diptyque

Wasn’t the best part about the child fantasy of being royal that you could have anything your heart desired?   Marie Antoinette felt bored with palace life, and wished for a little village near Versailles where she could play at being a shepherdess.  Done--Le Petit Trianon.  Today, there are still royalty who know how to work the whole your wish is my command deal--rockstars and celebrities, that is--and we’ve got the town criers, InStyle and US Weekly, to keep us informed of their whims.

It is maybe in this way that the word “Diptyque” first came under my radar.  These useless factoids for some reason stick in the recesses of the brain: Elton John is famous for having hundreds of Diptyque candles at home, whose wicks he trims lovingly every night, like rosebushes.  Sean "P Diddy" Combs basically doesn’t get out of bed in the morning if there aren’t 50 Diptyque Tuberose’s in the recording studio.  Giorgio Armani buys hundreds of Diptyque candles to perfume his runway shows.