It’s Paris Fashion Week. At night, the Eiffel Tower glows in celebratory colours.
Somethings I learnt with this trip…
C’est impossible to find accommodation during Fashion Week!!!
I could not find a room in any of the quaint, boutique hotels in my favourite hood, the 6th!
In utter desperation, I called the Four Seasons, Shangri La, Hotel Costes. I called Le Meurice. And Hotel Therese. And Hotel Daniel. I know my husband would understand, my unexpected migration to the Right Bank.
It’s Paris Fashion Week, Spice said. You are just going to have to slum it my dear, and change hoods.
I think he felt sorry for me, after saying that. Because I then received a text from his restaurant manager asking me if I would like to dine at 9:30pm, Friday night, near the Opera.
Chance moi! I managed to find a room, conveniently located in the 7th. The reviews on Tripadvisor were encouraging enough for me to ignore its 3-stars status.
I had the largest room I’ve ever slept in, in Paris. Look at the length of the corridor… within my room! Everything was clean, the mattress firm, and the bathroom functional!
If I stuck my head out of my window? I even had a view.
I did not feel unsafe in this hotel. The staff was kind.
Excuse moi… thé wifi.. c’est….
Wifi? C’est bizarre! Front Desk explained.
And so for two whole days, I lived without wifi. During this time, I worried, worried about blog traffic, or the lack of it. I couldn’t get on line to calm myself down by writing. I felt I had let my readers, down.
The wonderful thing about being in Paris is, there are sanctuaries for the anxious. So before the shows, I went to look at Monet’s Waterlilies, something I’ve longed, longed to do.
My art history teacher had put Charles Baudelaire on our reading list.
“…Modernity is the transient, the fleeting, the contingent…” (Baudelaire, The Painter of Modern Life)
“They are impressionists in the sense that they render not the landscape but the sensation produced by the landscape.” (Jules-Antoine Castagnary, critic.)
I was especially fascinated by the dark hues.
Housed at the Musee de l’ Orangerie, the paintings are displayed in 2 optical-shaped rooms, in keeping with Monet’s wishes.
On the lower ground floor, there is a private collection of more early modern French work.
The building itself, originally constructed to house the orange trees, felt like church, stilling disquiet thoughts.
Calmed and inspired, I decided to walk through unfamiliar streets back to the hotel. Using the Seine and the Eiffel Tower as markers, I figured, if I really got lost, I would just re-trace my steps.
The only way to discover anything new really, is by walking into the unknown. On that walk, I stumbled onto an art fair, filled with ceramic treasures.
Something about Agaroszak reminded me so much of another female artist I admire- Yoyoi Kusama.
The invite said, Black Tie. But I’m not really good at following rules.