The events of the last 3 months have given a new meaning and vividness to the memories we each hold dear — almost as though a bright celestial light has been shined on them. Whether it be a family holiday, a house party weekend, a trip and a comfy chic boutique hotel…
Or friends who now seem so far away. The details, and sweetness, of remembering have been a welcome companion throughout these days that seem to flow into each other without any distinguishing identity. I’m reminded often of Downton Abbey’s Dowager Duchess asking, “what’s a weekend?”
Last week’s post mentioned the glorious silver lining of being in Newport to witness the full bloom cycle of our 4 matched cherry trees. This was taking place the latter end of April, when I was to have been in Paris with dear friends. Well, as the saying goes, if you can’t be there, bring it to you.
So here are snippets of past Paris trips, the images that flash into my mind when someone asks — “what do you remember most?” For me, that always calls up details — funny, poignant, naughty, tasty, luxurious which I shall share in no particular order. The sponatneity of this post has been a special pleasure. As Audrey Hepburn said in Sabrina, “Paris is always a good idea.”
And speaking of always, the gardens and esplanades at the Tuileries are a must at any time, and any season.
Glorious pops of red, punctuating the facade of the Plaza Athénée — and their French toast tasting like the richest soufflé I have ever eaten.
Truly rare among Paris’s luxury hotels, the garden at the Shangri-La with its botanically inspired specimen trees and shrubs.
Capturing a floral wedding creation just before the bride ascended the stairs.
September “Fashion Week,” and the truly awe-inspiring grandness of the Dior show at Musée des Arts Décoratifs.
What is more classic than an old Citroen, in a shade of blue that you would only find in France, adding a bit of Gallic whimsy to the street scene.
Beaux Arts architecture at its finest — the courtyard, and neighbors, at the Musée Nissim de Camondo.
Chancing upon an out-of-a-storybook bridge in the Parc Monceau — its reflection almost completing the circle.
A tucked away tiny restaurant, on the Ile de la Cite’, in the handsome Square de la Place Dauphine.
Painted doors, here my favorite color aubergine, to be found down the side streets of almost every arrondissement.
Paris’s oldest bridge, le Pont Neuf, as the golden glow from apartment lights signals that evening is descending.
The charmingly cheeky bartender at the Ritz, who popped in front of the camera as I was photographing a new purchase.
For this champagne lover, the exquisite jewel of a room at the Dokhan hotel, which doubled as a champagne bar at night (with over 240 selections) and a breakfast site that I much anticipated every morning.
Being enchanted by the Jules Verne Carrousel in the Parc Monceau which features an eclectic array of exotic wood carvings …a submarine, a bi-plane, a trolly, a motorcycle, a fire truck, Cinderella’s carriage, a giraffe, and a laughing cow.
A taste of Paris culture and courtesy…a little footstool on which to place your handbag when dining out.
Lastly, an international architectural landmark that always tugs at my heart…none more so than when lit up every evening from sunset to 1am. But the real magic is added during the first five minutes of each hour on the hour when she is a golden spectacle of glimmering, sparkling lights.
Today, May 7th, I was to have been in Locust Valley, New York, on Long Island, for a book signing and talk about “Tales of Newport.” I will miss you, ladies, but look forward to next year!