When I first began regular trips to France, over 30 years go, I was obsessed with noticing differences. My French women acquaintances (who became close friends over the years) would not dream of shoving their tights or lingerie into a drawer. Mais non, they used elegant lingerie bags, flat envelope-type sacs of beautiful fabric.
lingerie bags for small scarves and
handkerchiefs. I also use them for travel, a more graceful version of "packing bags". A woman could stuff her smalls into a ziploc, but this is so much more pleasing.
A lingerie bag makes a most charming personal gift. Like an eiderdown powder puff, it's an item of discreet sensuality. Those with basic sewing skills and a machine can make one, but, having given my beloved Singer Featherweight to my prospective daughter-in-law, I am placing some made by others in the Passage's windows.
The French understand lingerie bags. The bag is properly about 12"x9"
and will therefore hold up to four bras or six pairs of panties. They don't
claim to be "purses" or
"shoe bags". Therefore, amid a sea of "lingerie bags", French bags are predictably the genuine item.
French antique embroidered linen; price, $28:
Blue floral Liberty-print, price, $31.76:
Pink fine cotton butterflies, price, $31.76:
A serene white satin bag from lingerie maker Myriam Girard: Price, £15.
Padded silk faille, circa 1910, embroidered with a two-letter monogram, LL. Could there be a more nostalgic accessory? Price, $32.
There is small niche for such refined accoutrements: shoe bags, drawstring pouches, a beautiful shoe horn or comb. Whichever you choose, a feminine grace note that speaks of an era before plastic snap-lids and Tide Sticks lends pleasure to even the plainest drawer.