Country Living: Out & About

Cherie is resting today because she has a BIG dinner party chez un ami tonight -- if it were a BIG dinner party chez Cherie she would be in an intensive care unit someplace with an even better excuse for not writing her column.

But you know Cherie, she wouldn't leave you without entertainment while she rips apart her closets trying to find different black components which are/were more or less in the same dye lot. Since even with the light on, as her Reason-for-Living-in-France has pointed out on many occasions, it's impossible to see anything in there anyway; it's a tricky task indeed.

Above is the news from the countryside. 

An aside: Cherie sidled up to a stunning gray-haired woman shopping in Monoprix this week, spilled her spiel whereupon the woman said: "Moi? Oh, how lovely, I'm so flattered, of course you can take my picture." 

Moments later her 30-something daughter arrived at her side and said: "She's taking pictures for the INTERNET (!) I don't trust the Internet, but do what you like; it's your decision."

Guess how that ended.

Le Jour de Merci Donnant

Decades ago while working at the International Herald Tribune in Paris, the political satirist and Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, Art Buchwald (1925-2007), wrote one of the funniest, laugh out loud columns I have ever read in an effort to explain Thanksgiving to the French.

Many of you may be familiar with it, but it is worth a read every year. Since we don't observe the quintessential, non-denominational, eat-until-you're-sick holiday here, it's my way of celebrating -- without the fuss and unfortunately, without the family.

So, a changement de programme for this day of giving thanks. Even if you are among those who do not formally give thanks on this holiday, you can celebrate the un-de-mode-able  (I made up the word to throw in a tinge of fashion. . . and broke it into syllables for easy pronunciation.) humor of the grand Monsieur Buchwald. No-calorie happiness is just a click away.

Happy, happy Thanksgiving, whether you celebrate or not.

Tishxo

Virtual Shopping: Her Way, My Way

Despite the unlimited virtual credit we have on our cards allowing us to indulge in the most frivolous follies, this week I opted for one wear-for-the-rest-of-our-lives YSL school uniform pleated skirt (at a one semester at Harvard price tag no doubt) and a low-key frou-frou embellished shell from Miu Miu which has long-term pluck out of the closet for any occasion potential.

You know the game: I choose, Edith either argues or submits, we take the pieces back to our armoires and mix them up with what we already own. Then Edith draws them. If she's in a testy mood she makes me gain weight and herself lose it -- virtually speaking of course, as is the entire exercise. Except we really do own the clothes we use to extend our faux purchases. And as you can see, one of us was on a regime, the other wasn't. Merci beaucoup, Edith. 

On top, Edith put her Miu Miu with a brown felt skirt trimmed in velvet and her boots, which you've seen before. I put mine with my vanilla Chanel skirt, which you have also seen before, a camel cashmere shawl to cover those pesky upper arms and my gold and black Chanel shoes.

Above, and I quote: "I put the YSL skirt with an old jacket which looks like Saint Lauret, but isn't; a gray turtleneck; red tights and my new bottines." My get-up includes: a black cashmere T-shirt; gray boyfriend sweater (Edith forgot the buttons) and another of my new scarves -- one side gray, the other black -- just pretend for the side Edith made into some sort of tan-ish hue instead of gray.

If You Could Buy Anything: What Would It Be?

As for so many things in this life (or my life), I thought I had everything under control, but you know how it goes, best laid plans and all that. . .

Then I decided, of course, it must be my French, I didn't phrase the question properly. This happens all the time and seemed like a reasonable explanation. Today's interview was to be simple, straight-forward (I thought), based on the question: "If you could have anything in the world you wanted, money no object -- we're in fantasy land -- what would you choose?" 

Obviously I was a material girl before the other one was born (barely, I mean age-wise) so I thought the query was limpid. I was referring to clothes, bright shiny objects. I was proposing a once-in-a-lifetime offer. 

My first call was to Anne-Françoise. Without a moment's hesitation, she replied: "a goat."  

"Non, non, Cherie," said I.  "I'm afraid you didn't quite understand." Whereupon she replied, "Now that I have my three chickens I want a goat." I tried again: "But you can have ANYTHING you want." 

"I want a chevre," she said in a slightly more emphatic tone.

I thought this was so funny I decided to change the rules of my game. Instead of insisting on garments and bijoux I asked two questions:

1. If you could "buy" anything what would it be?

2. If you could "buy" any clothes, accessories, jewels, what would they be?

This is what my subjects told me:

Anne-Françoise: My goat.

And something beautiful from Lanvin.

Edith: I would hire a full-time combination chauffeur/secretary.

Then I would like a rouge Hermès Birkin bag to wear with a three-quarter length Chanel jacket, also in rouge and the Jeager-Lecoultre Reverso watch.

Katy: I would like a house overlooking the water in Corsica and a chalet in Meribelle, both with four bedrooms and four luxurious bathrooms.

On the other side of the question; I'll take a huge emerald cut diamond ring.

Frédérique: A four-bedroom maison in the heart of Paris with a small garden.

Since I love Art Deco, I would like diamond and pearl earrings from the epoch and a matching bracelet.

Aurore: A hotel particulier with a large garden near Paris.

After I've arranged the house, I would like the following: a Hermès Cape Cod watch, a HUGE diamond from Van Cleef, the Chanel 2.55 sac, a Hermès Kelly bag and then I would go shopping at all the grand couturiers to find exactly what fits me perfectly to go with my new accessories.

Ed. Note: Next week the same questions will be answered by -- are you ready (?) -- Les Hommes (!)

TOP 10: Secrets About Moi

Can you still your beating heart? (You have to read the hedline with this sentence, otherwise you'll think I should add "obnoxious" to the Top 10.)

To my surprise and awe I have been given two awards recently from the kind, generous, wonderful, world of virtual friends in the blogosphere. 

The one above is from Els at Mon Avis Mes Amis , the brilliant and when I say brilliant I am not exaggerating creator of beautiful prose. Do take the time to see what real writing is all about. She writes like a dream, her storytelling is like magic and she has a wicked sense of humor. I'm warning you, once you start, there's no turning back. 

You can imagine, once you too are hooked on Els, why I'm so immensely flattered.

The rules, 10 things you definitely don't know about me: 

1.) On my wedding day I received a long distance telephone marriage proposal. 

2.) When we -- daughter, three huge dogs and I -- moved to France, since I didn't speak one word of French I never did all the legal stuff one is supposed to do when one moves to another country. It was all in French after all and how could anyone expect me to deal with that plus a job and all the rest? Even grocery shopping was a challenge.

Furthermore we were living in the countryside, which is normally a good cover for an illegal alien.

Mais non, one afternoon I drove into the driveway of our rented, thatched-roof cottage and waiting for me in a huge van were three gendarmes. I couldn't understand -- obviously -- what they were trying to tell me. My 8-year-old explained they wanted to deport us. 

They kept repeating: "Je suis désolé madame,  je suis désolé madame." I immediately called my then not, but almost Reason-for-Living-in-France to come save us. 

We went to the gendarmerie where he explained, translated, did whatever he did so we weren't sent back to the States on the spot. In the middle of the transaction the gendarme stopped his typing, looked up at him and said: "Wait a minute, you're trilingual? You speak French, English and American?" At which point I looked over at my future Reason-for-Living-in-France and said, "And they're allowed to carry guns?" 

He pointed out it was not the moment to be glib -- or words to that effect.

3. I adored my father.

4. When we lived in Chicago every Saturday I volunteered at the Lincoln Park baby zoo where all the foundlings rejected by their mothers lived. I would bottle feed, lions, leopards, gorillas, chimps -- it was wonderful.

5. I've never made a tarte, a mousse au chocolat or crème brûlée. And I'm not proud to admit it, nor is it too late to remedy.

6. When we lived in the above mentioned cottage in the back garden, fenced off from our garden were two ponies and a horse named Déesse (Goddess), also owned by our landlord. Déesse and I fell in love immediately and I would let her come into our part of the garden. Eventually she came into the kitchen to pick-up her apples and carrots. (Actually half-way in, she was too big for the small space.)

7. I am a magnet for crazy women and sometimes crazy, nasty women. Friends have pointed this out to me and it seems to be true. I always thought everyone had a few nutters in their repertoire of "friends." Guess not.

8. I hate driving anywhere, any time. Always have, always will. If I try driving on a highway for two hours I fall asleep; the white line hypnotizes me.

9. About 10 years ago I lived and worked in Dubai for several months. I was the editor of a  magazine aimed at the wealthy Emirates market of international travelers. One day in the office I asked to see an atlas for a story I was editing. To my shock and horror I saw that Israel was thickly black-markered off of the map by the "censors." I was told that was the case in all reference material in the country.

10. I was once offered a two-bedroom condominium -- as in cadeau -- in a chi-chi area near San Francisco. I refused. It's a long story. 

Ed. Note: Part of the responsibility of taking on this honor is the challenge of passing it along to others. I promise I will do this the minute I get back from the big city. It will also give me time to think. 

(And Kristi, La Bella Figura, who nominated me for the other award in her lovely generosity, thank heavens you only asked for seven "secrets" -- I'm working on it and I do thank you again.)

The Week Ahead or La Semaine Prochaine

On The Calendar for The Coming Week:

Lundi: A Different Type of TOP 10

Mardi: If You Could Buy Anything, What Would It Be?

Mercredi: Virtual Shopping

Jeudi: Out & About: On-the-Street

Vendredi: Dear Cherie

Samedi: Deco Surprise (!)

Dimanche: Line-up For La Semaine Prochaine

Betty Lou Phillips Shares Her Decorating Secrets: Part II

Oh, how I regret the end of this mini-series. Perhaps I can think of something else to ask Betty Lou in the future. (Or then again, you could help me. Isn't that a great idea. . .?)

I haven't cleared this with BL, but just in case it's always important to be prepared.

As you will recall, last week I asked her for 10ish reasonably priced suggestions to help a home "brim with culture and charm." The part in quotes are her words. 

This is what she said:

• An Aubusson throw pillow that started life as a carpet. Although the practice of creating period rooms dripping in brocades and gold leaf is virtually extinct, an Aubusson pillow is an instantly identifiable symbol of style and sophistication.
  

• Let light create a romantic mood by layering candles, sconces, picture lights and carefully placed table and floor lamps with low-wattage bulbs. Bright lights can be jarring as well as cast unforgiving shadows on the face.
  

• A collection of candlesticks and a candle snuffer. Flood rooms in candlelight.
  

• A bit of leopard fabric perhaps? An accent chair, a pouf (hassock) or footstool can add a note of whimsy and chic.
  

• Always add sprays of fresh flowers either straight from the garden or from the local market. Monochromatic blooms arranged en masse are the epitome of quiet elegance.
  

• Let furniture float rather than stiffly hugging the perimeter of walls. Put a fire in the fireplace, a throw on a chair. . .