Paris shopping Part One: A little help from my friends
When in Paris, I realized that, if a person has any interest in beauty, the ability to indulge that characteristic, in any form, is boundless: a bunch of glowing ranunculas, dinner plates from La Tuile à Loup, a Marie Mercié "birdhouse" hat.
I'm grateful that before departure, I read this aphorism, which holds true no matter where one lives:
I could have refused all, the ultimate freedom, but I'd arrived with a short list of things I needed: shoes for a son's end-of-summer wedding, and possibly a "dress-up" top for related festivities.
I admired this silk blouse, printed with the doors of Lisbon, by the designer eun hwa:
Beautiful? I thought so, though beauty is a matter of individual judgment.
Adaptable? Yes, it could be worn as a blouse or light jacket, and goes with any solid colour.
Sound? I had to look up the definition, as it's an unusual word to apply to a garment. One meaning is "showing good judgment or sense"; another is "solid". (She probably wrote this in the 1940s, when the Dirty Thirties were but a few years in the past. Not everyone wants clothes to last, but I share her view.)
The blouse did not meet that third criterion. In our climate, there are only a handful of weeks in which to wear that weight of silk comfortably on its own. Upkeep would be costly; the vendeuse said "Don't even think about handwashing". Given the steep price (over $US 400), I decided no.
A week later, after a delightful where-did-the-time-go lunch in Galeries Vivienne with the lovely, vibrant author and blogger Tish Jett, we visited one of my favourite Paris boutiques, Wolff & Descourtis, a 140-year-old family firm who produce exquisite textiles of fine wool, silk, and velvet plush as a tabby's neck. The shawls and scarves are limited editions; only twenty-four are made in each pattern.
Tish and Victoria Wolff liked me in a paisley shawl of soft "English colours", gentle rose, taupe, robin's egg blue, ecru. I too responded to the scarf's serene charm, but as I carried the bag to our apartment, began to question why I have no other clothes in that colourway.
When I modeled it, Le Duc said, "The colours are so subtle and marvelous—but they wash you out. I think you can do better."
We returned to the shop. I eventually chose a zodiac-themed shawl of pinks, blue, orange, green (and on closer inspection, about five more colours I didn't know were there: grey, peach, khaki, tomato, mocha) punctuated with sunny yellow.
Why is this sound? It's portable (when traveling, it folds to a small roll and shakes out unwrinked) and gives at least three-season wear; I mean, I came home on April 23 to 1C/34F and snowflakes! Though it eventually requires drycleaning, because it's worn on top of other clothes the frequency is far lower than the silk blouse.
The price was about $US 265 given the detaxe allowance for non-EU residents. Silks and velvets, especially the devoré pieces like those Luciano Pavarotti collected, are far more.
Is also there a lesson here about others' advice? If someone "loves it on you", relish the compliment but don't make it the deciding factor. Even though Tish, Victoria and Le Duc each have a superb eye, they are different eyes. (His first choice was not the one I chose, either.) Also, I chose the first scarf when tired; its calm colours soothed. After a night's sleep, my mood changed.
When Victoria handed the box to me, along with a small bag of marrons glacés, she remarked that I had picked the "Parisienne hipster one", tongue firmly in Gallic chic.
Wolff & Descourtis pieces are not sold online, so there's an excuse for your trip.
PS. For those intrigued by pearls: Kojima Company have just begun their spring sale: 19% off with code DARAJA till May 11.
Hat by Marie Mercié |
I'm grateful that before departure, I read this aphorism, which holds true no matter where one lives:
I could have refused all, the ultimate freedom, but I'd arrived with a short list of things I needed: shoes for a son's end-of-summer wedding, and possibly a "dress-up" top for related festivities.
I admired this silk blouse, printed with the doors of Lisbon, by the designer eun hwa:
Beautiful? I thought so, though beauty is a matter of individual judgment.
Adaptable? Yes, it could be worn as a blouse or light jacket, and goes with any solid colour.
Sound? I had to look up the definition, as it's an unusual word to apply to a garment. One meaning is "showing good judgment or sense"; another is "solid". (She probably wrote this in the 1940s, when the Dirty Thirties were but a few years in the past. Not everyone wants clothes to last, but I share her view.)
The blouse did not meet that third criterion. In our climate, there are only a handful of weeks in which to wear that weight of silk comfortably on its own. Upkeep would be costly; the vendeuse said "Don't even think about handwashing". Given the steep price (over $US 400), I decided no.
A week later, after a delightful where-did-the-time-go lunch in Galeries Vivienne with the lovely, vibrant author and blogger Tish Jett, we visited one of my favourite Paris boutiques, Wolff & Descourtis, a 140-year-old family firm who produce exquisite textiles of fine wool, silk, and velvet plush as a tabby's neck. The shawls and scarves are limited editions; only twenty-four are made in each pattern.
Tish and Victoria Wolff liked me in a paisley shawl of soft "English colours", gentle rose, taupe, robin's egg blue, ecru. I too responded to the scarf's serene charm, but as I carried the bag to our apartment, began to question why I have no other clothes in that colourway.
When I modeled it, Le Duc said, "The colours are so subtle and marvelous—but they wash you out. I think you can do better."
Why is this sound? It's portable (when traveling, it folds to a small roll and shakes out unwrinked) and gives at least three-season wear; I mean, I came home on April 23 to 1C/34F and snowflakes! Though it eventually requires drycleaning, because it's worn on top of other clothes the frequency is far lower than the silk blouse.
The price was about $US 265 given the detaxe allowance for non-EU residents. Silks and velvets, especially the devoré pieces like those Luciano Pavarotti collected, are far more.
Is also there a lesson here about others' advice? If someone "loves it on you", relish the compliment but don't make it the deciding factor. Even though Tish, Victoria and Le Duc each have a superb eye, they are different eyes. (His first choice was not the one I chose, either.) Also, I chose the first scarf when tired; its calm colours soothed. After a night's sleep, my mood changed.
When Victoria handed the box to me, along with a small bag of marrons glacés, she remarked that I had picked the "Parisienne hipster one", tongue firmly in Gallic chic.
Wolff & Descourtis pieces are not sold online, so there's an excuse for your trip.
PS. For those intrigued by pearls: Kojima Company have just begun their spring sale: 19% off with code DARAJA till May 11.
Comments
And I'm so happy you had a good trip - you deserve it. Tell us more about what you did...
regards,
Janice
That blouse is stunning, but would lose much of its charm under a sweater or jacket. Beautiful scarf though.
How many books did Le Duc buy?
We finally have a pleasant flânable day here in Montréal...
There was also an interesting very small exhibition space in or near that arcade.
Mme: It is odd for me to call such a flamboyant palette "practical", yet I think it will be. I actually went back three times to try on the blouse.
lagatta: Hmmm, I am not exactly sure; at least a half dozen on prehistory, one of his pet reading topics.
fugal: I would not think of the wool scarves as a natural fit with your climate, but if you plan to do more travel, they could be worn more often. Mme Victoria showed me some silk weaves, almost chiffon alternating with light silk, that are popular with buyers in warm climates.
LauraH: I sometimes enjoy abdicating my decision (like frugal, I can be overwhelmed) and others have made much-appreciated suggestions- so it's a double-edged proposition! I am happy with this outcome.
That being said, I'd still go for the scarf, as you did...
Most of the books I acquire when in Paris are gifts - from the authors.