Paris Fashion Week (Part 1)

It’s Paris Fashion Week.  At night, the Eiffel Tower glows in celebratory colours.

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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!

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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!

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If I stuck my head out of my window?  I even had a view.

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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.

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My art history teacher had put Charles Baudelaire on our reading list.

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“…Modernity is the transient, the fleeting, the contingent…” (Baudelaire, The Painter of Modern Life)

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“They are impressionists in the sense that they render not the landscape but the sensation produced by the landscape.”  (Jules-Antoine Castagnary, critic.)

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I was especially fascinated by the dark hues.

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Housed at the Musee de l’ Orangerie, the paintings are displayed in 2 optical-shaped rooms, in keeping with Monet’s wishes.

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On the lower ground floor, there is a private collection of more early modern French work.

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The building itself, originally constructed to house the orange trees, felt like church, stilling disquiet thoughts.

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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.

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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.

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***

Something about Agaroszak reminded me so much of another female artist I admire- Yoyoi Kusama.

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The invite said, Black Tie.  But I’m not really good at following rules.

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