What a week this has been: dinner parties; working on projects; shopping the last of the soldes; a med-ped and worst of all, You-Know-Who has started her regime impelling Cherie to avoid her at every turn. She is un-su- por-ta-ble (French pronunciation).
She eats these blini/crepe things every morning made out of coarsely ground buckwheat and oat bran held together by an egg and a heaping tablespoon of frommage blanc (zero percent fat), mixed and then spread into a non-stick pan, no easy task considering how gooky it is. Et voila, breakfast.
If the horses across the street were au courant there would be a stampede on the kitchen.
To be perfectly honest with you, which Cherie usually is, she liked You-Know-Who better when she was eating ice cream and drinking Chartreuse.
Enough of that, let's get to your questions:
Q: Dear Cherie, You mentioned dinner parties. Did you notice any trends?
A: Chere Mme. X, Cherie assumes you are speaking about the guests as opposed to the repas, n'est-ce pas? In that case, yes. We were six couples at table, among the women five were wearing some form of pearl earrings. Cherie is not fool enough to predict this coincidence as a mode movement, simply an observation. The pearls were in all sorts of shapes, sizes and sizzle: long teardrops held by a decent sized ruby; round surrounded by diamonds; a single large one suspended from a small gold loop; and a sort of chandelier affair which Cherie liked least.
Q: Anything strike your fancy these days, Cherie?
A: Of course, Mme. M, Cherie's fancy is tickled several times a day. She insists upon it. She was particularly "touched" might be the correct word for this photograph (by Denis Rouvre) in Figaro Madame magazine of Diane Von Furstenberg. Why, you might well ask? Because she has clearly done the teeth whitening procedure, but she hasn't zapped her hands and look at the crinkles around her eyes. Cherie thinks this is all quite splendid.
Q: Dear Cherie, Before you get worked up, I know you don't do "cute," but I do and was wondering with your refined eye if you might steer me in the right direction so I could have mignon, without looking the fool. Could you do that for me? Hmmm?
A: Dear Mme. S, Has anyone ever told you you're annoying? If not, they must have been thinking it. Alright, Cherie will not get worked up and will actually show you something she considers cute. This cashmere pull from Sonia Rykiel with "Garçon Manqué" (tomboy) emblazoned across the front. You know Cherie does not approve of grown women wearing messages on their chests. She's just saying in her opinion this is awfully mignon.
Do you think that expression on her face has anything to do with the fact she forgot her trousers? (Photo by Nicolas Bergerot.)
Q: Chere Cherie, You have neither the time nor the space to tell us what you think about all the latest haute couture collections, but would you show us a few ensembles you might wear if you lived in the rarefied world you so richly deserve?
A: Ah, Mme.H, How very delicate on your part. Cherie would be delighted to share a few looks that caught her eye. She does this with an irrevocable caveat however: One must never, never, never -- and you fashion mavins know this -- look at a collection on a runway or even in most fashion magazines and say to yourself, "Well obviously that wasn't made for me."
Well of course it wasn't, it was made for the photographer so the photographs could be sold with enough shock value to grab your attention. Stripe away the theater and look at the treasure beneath. Another point, we're talking haute couture here. That means when you go in to try on the evening gown of your dreams that costs more than a Harvard education, you can ask the atelier to make the skirt longer or add a pair of sleeves. At those prices some customers are invited to dine with John or Karl.
Pictured above: Jean Paul Gaultier, Dior and Chanel.
(For the record: Cherie doesn't wear sorbet pastels and no, she doesn't want to discuss a crop as the season's new accessory.)