Les Parfums de Rosine, Paris

Well. If you had ever did have doubts of going to Paris on May, I can set your mind not at a rest. It is beautiful, fresh, overwhelming, funny and utterly charming. Even surreal - inspite of all the tourists running around sweating and NOT dressed, alost not washed. Paris can stand it and it feels like an old lady who has seen it all and just shrugs her left shoulder and goes on with the business of beauty. It does not matter. Yesterday I was on the way to have dinner with dear old friends and spent hours in the taxi at 6pm, not a good idea. Passing by the Arc de Triomph I saw a young,  radiant japanese couple, sitting in the sun, she in her bridal merengue dress and he next to her on the bench and it was just charming.....

But to those latest musts for a Parisvisit! Getting married is not yet on the list. Scent is!!!

"Les Parfums de Rosine" is a delightful little shop in the right hand corner of the garden, right in the back, of the Palais Royal in Paris.

Actually my friend Susanne has discovered it and since a while has been a faithful follower of those magnificent scents - all around roses! But she is a lucky girl, every scent on her smells divine and we others around stay in awe of her natural ability to pick out the most marvelous scents on the market. I wonder, why nobody has - until now! - discovered her talent.

It has now been already a while, that "Roses" do have a great come-back in scents and even skincare. There are several "roses" on the market right now, in all sorts of disguises. I like, I have to confess, the roses of Frédéric Malle and the ones here, of Rosine.

Mademoiselle Pauy, fountain of patience

It is nice to know, that Les Parfums de Rosine are indeed not a new invention - Jean Patou created in 1912 a perfume for his daughter, "Rose de Rosine" - a classic niche scent. Then it became quiet about the firm and the revival started a couple of years ago.

When I am in Paris, time is scarce and has to be filled in with all the things I want to do and see. But in this case, time was not an issue. The lovely and very kind saleslady had all the patience of the world to sniff everthing with us through, we took our time and had a good chat about ingredients and impressions - all things important in choosing a scent and an essential part in the pleasure involved doing so. No hushing and pressing on to buy something - a clever way of making the customer long to come back!



Next time you are in Paris, by all means pop into the little gem of a shop in the galeries of the Palais Royal...
And next time, when I am in Paris I shall have to go the the little shop we discovered in the Rue Richelieu de Patricia de Nicolay, with all of those gorgeous scents of her.... No rest for the wicked!

Nancy Mitford: Novels and other books

Favourite novels and comfort reading - shortest possible description of a great passion of mine: Nancy Mitford and her work.

And then shortly behind, all the Mitford family - they are a bunch of very different people. The only brother died too early, but would have been as interesting as his 5 sisters, I am sure.
Nancy is the oldest of the siblings and started early to write to earn some money - she always suffered under the fact, that she never attended a school, but was taught at home, which means, she read the library up and down and did little else. She started to become a real writer when she moved to Paris, out of love - and stayed there ever after, even after the love of her life, the "Colonel" in her most famous  novel, did marry somebody else. They settled down for a cosy friendship and she went on to love Paris and buy dresses at Christian Dior.
What I like in her novels is the depiction of the high society in England and France, preWWII and in the 1950ies and 60ies - too blissfull to not know. Duff Cooper, among other things english Ambassador to Paris in the 1950ies, was a great fan of her novels and then later her historic biographies, which are only little known - which is very unfair, as they are not only a great read, but also very good researched. ( I studied history, so believe me here for once!) She always loves her subjects and therefore we own her some of the most amusing and understanding biographies about Louis XIV, the Marquise de Pompadour, the lovestory between Voltaire and Mme de Chatelet - and  a wonderful understanding biography about Frederic the Great. Especially the biographies are rare to find nowadays - I bought the Voltaire after much looking for it in the internet. Frederik and "Pomp", as she called her, are available at Penguins.

But there is good news: I have had a good dive on Amazon and the novels and even the biographies (!!!) are due to be published again - hurra!
Now for a short introduction to her novels. I cannot say, which one I love more, they are all delightful. Important to know is, that they are always told from the point of view of Fanny, a mousy cousin, who has been left behind by her mother as a baby to grow up with an aunt and who always spend her holidays with her delightful cousins in the countryside - they grow up together. Through all the novels the figure of Fanny tells us the stories and we can follow her way in life too, becoming a wife and mother and, in the last novel, wife of the english Ambassador in Paris in the 1960ies - with all included....
The Pursuit of Love is more or less a history of Nancy´s english childhood in disguise: the Radleys, their apparently always unheated countryhouse Alconleigh, in the center Linda and her life, from being a debutante, marrying the wrong man twice and  finding love - I will not tell more not to spoil the pleasure in reading... Wonderfully witty and lovely english...
Love in a Cold Climate is the story of the beautiful Polly, her grand and very important parents and her cousin, the equally beautiful Cedric, who refers to himself as "One" and knows all about antiques and facecreams. The description of the dinner parties at the country house in the 1930ies is one out of 1000.

The Blessing is a story of an "english rose", Grace,  getting married to a french marquis and the ups and downs of this marriage in the Paris of the 1950/60ies. Delightful descriptions of dinnerparties and the Beau Monde in Paris at that time - or of a holiday in the summer in the family house in the south of France.

Don´t tell Alfred finally is the story of the couple Fanny and Alfred as ambassadors in the 1960ies in Paris - many of the old faces are in here again and it is hilarious and a must read for every diplomat in the world. Actually, those were the good times I so often refer to...

These are her main novels, all to be found in a great Nancy Mitford Omnibus by Penguin. There are some others which have been reedited, I must admit, that I did not read them, mostly earlier books, two or three. But I have read more or less everything by her and about her. For a biography of herself, I would suggest the Biography written by Harold Acton after her death - he was a part in her set and knew her very well. He also "understood" her, which is not always the case in biographies.

Another book, which gives an insight in the family and the relations with her sisters and the beloved brother  Tom are the Letters of the Mitford Sisters - a wonderful read in itself! As one sister was the beautiful Diana, first married to a Guiness, then falling in love with Sir Oswald Mosley; another was Decca, a convinced communist, married to a chap who went to the Spanish Civil War, became a widow and left to live in America;  Unity was a devouted follower of Hitler and shot herself when she understood, what was going on; Pam, a great house and Horse woman; the youngest is Deborah, Dowager Duchess of Devonshire. A broad variety indeed. And a history of England at its best, in numberless letters, often so witty and hilaroius, making jokes when they are sad and just carrying on - indeed the best of british, I `d say.

In praise of a clear desk

Since I started to work again, I am battling against a desk which is overtaken every day by papers, notices and all sorts of things, like used tea mugs, not working pens, a picture of my children, memosticks for shopping lists in the supermarket in the evening  ( you cannot imagine the catastrophe, if there is no Nutella in the house!) and then also urgent files, very urgent files and files which would have been neede to sort out long before I started to work here - all very peacefully waiting with longing eyes - as far as files can have eyes - for being treated and filed and archived.

It is a constant battle. Until now I win  -  which give me the thought whether this is a battle worth battling?? There are two schools of desks: the ones which are completedly clean and look like coming out of a Interior Decoration Magazine. The others are so chaotic, that one comes into the room and turns on one's heels as it seems completedly useless to look for something. But both models work. Most of us are in the middle of those two extremes.

An empty, shining and very very big and clean desk can mean several things. Or there is someone not in the office at all and it is a showroom in a shop. Or the person concerned is not important, i.e. has nothing to do and fills in a purely decorative existence. Or he/she is so well organised, that we should be very careful and in awe of working with somebody like that: it means, that all is going over the desk, but is treated immediately and nothing lingers and waits until the Day of St. Nobody. So it is a message between real power and real powerlessness and it needs a good eye to see the difference.

The superchaos table might as well be a treacherous thing: Someone is overwhelmed with work and lost in oblivion between piling up dossiers? Or not well organised? Or simply very creative - most often I have noticed, that those, who are working in this creative chaos version always find everything in a matter of minutes and normally have everything stored safely away in their heads as well - The question now is, who is more admirable - the empty or the chaotic table-owners? And where are you?

Remember the feeling, when you were still going to school? Spending "hours" to arrange everything very neatly on your desk before starting to do your homework? It felt like being in charge and control. And it gave pleasure to the task of doing your homework in the best way possible ( ok, there have been many many times, where I just smeared the stuff down and was done with it). But I remember very clearly the pleasure of a well organized and clear desk. Nowadays I see it in the room of my daughter - the time which goes into preparing to make her desk right is sometimes longer than the actual work she has to do.

I take it as a good habit, some sort of concentration thing. A clear desk gives you freedom to act and to decide what to do next. But nothing against a full desk, even if it shouts chaos - sometimes a very creative chaos.

Formal dinner anybody?

A little while ago an old friend of mine took me to a very posh dinnerparty - I did not know anybody and felt at the beginning quite out of my comfort zone. Actually I am quite out of training these days concerning dinnerparties, small talk, charme offensives and dressing up to an event outside my office, the kitchen at home and my tour to the supermarket.
But, surprise, I enjoyed myself very much indeed!

In my humble experience of the olden days the best recipe for a successful party is the combination of three main factors: The right mixture of people, not too many, not too few, then delicious and not overcomplicated food (or, if you  must have the lobstercocktail, prepare it in mouthwateringly easy to handle bits and pieces), enough good stuff to drink and - fast becoming  a dying out artform - be delighted to receive your guests, nicely made up and dressed to the occasion. Easy.

As a matter of fact, it is not really elegant to have too much choice in food and overcomplicated dishes, which sometimes make people uncomfortable, as they do not know how to handle the lobster cutlery and have to look intelligent while figuring out on the spot. Very often the simple dishes are the most relished - here comes the idea of comfort food fully to its meaning. Known food makes people relax and enjoy what they have served in front of them. Too much choice makes a bad belly and consequently grumpy guests! But deliciously and carefully prepared dishes do not have to be complicated.
The same goes for drinks - champagne for aperos, for dinner water and one good wine goes a long way to jolly conversation and fun. No need to have red and white wine, ports of different centuries and then also 35 different digestives. By any means serve a nice Grappa or a Whisky with the coffee, but that' s it.
It is a well known truth, that a dinnerparty does not need to cost much money in order to be a success.

Then the people - here it starts to become interesting. Rarely the person who cherishes to go to an event in the full conscience of not knowing a single soul in the place. We all love to find a well known face and normally stir immediately to this safe haven in the sea of unknown co-guests. Which does not exclude that meeting new people is one of the true pleasures of an evening well spent.
I always make it a rule, that everybody invited knows at least one person well enough to have a conversation starter. This breaks the ice and makes new introductions look effortless. The mixture of people is also important - depending on the number of invitees you have. If you have a huge party for more then 50 people, mix all you want. If you have a dinner for 8, you have to be a little bit more careful for political convictions, religious beliefs, maritial problems and belief it or not, vegetarian activits or the odd artist...

Last but not least we come to the broad smile, oozing the pleasure of opening your home to guests and infusing their arrival with the imminent expectaion of a splendid, funny and interesting evening. I think those adjectives were still written high in the agenda in the 1950ies, only to die a slow and agonising death  during the 70ies and beyond ending in the feeling, that sometimes the guest seems to be the enemy indeed.
 I have always thought that getting washed, combed and dressed in a clean shirt together with a intention to have a lovely evening are the basics which a guest should bring to a party. I may sound once again the preacher here, but I cannot help the impression that it has been a rule of good upbringing lost to our contemporaries to do one's duty at a party: It is a give and take and the success of an evening can fall and rise with the effort guests put into singing for their dinner. And believe me, it is not an impression I have alone. Many a hostess sometimes asks herself, if it is really such a calvaire for people being invited and pampered and then not opening their mouth a whole evening and afterwards not even having the slightest need to thank for an evening  which quite some thought and effort was put in to please them. It seems their birthright to receive, but not to give. I wonder whether we should not change the system and offer even to pay guests to attend a dinnerparty.... It would be a good source of income for impoverished aristocracy.

There is still a bubble surviving in diplomatic lives where dressing up for the occasion, preparing delicious food and taking care of beautiful settings are also fast on their way of becoming an endagered species.
So, enjoy, wehnever you get the oportunity and while it lasts!

PS: Let me know, if you need a count, a baroness or even a princess, ok?

Why don't you, for a change...

...give away the stuff you have not used in the last two years? I mean seriously everything - from bedding to shoes and cooking pans to halfused shampoo bottles in your bathroom, tablecloth, stored pullovers and old post packages?

...finish what you have? Before you next time buy something for your bathroom, you use everything you have stored as a hamster - but everything, every little shampoo, soap and bodylotions and shower gel? Not to forget the collection of hotel samples!!!

...make a raid in your kitchen cupboards? Do not go to the supermarked, but make meals in using only ingredients you have at home? Allowed to buy are fresh vegetables/fruit and bread.

...make a swap party with you friends - or a market? Organise it with all the things which are still good or you do not want to give away for nothing, but do not really want to earn serious money with it? Invite all your contacts and tell them to bring a friend - new aquaintances come for free!

...edit your addressbook, email contacts and telephonebook on your telephone? Store them in a little USB stick, just in case, but have the essentiels at hand without scrolling 150 names for the letter "M".....

....take the pictures down and have bare walls for a while? It trains the eyes and makes you aware once again of your surroundings. Have you noticed the light on the floor in your living room?

.... make a habit of changing the decoration of your home with the seasons? Easiest done with flowers of the market and the odd lovely cashmere shawl on your bed from october onwards. Or, as it is spring now,  out with the azaleas, in with the tulips and out with the warm duvets ( ok, not yet!) and in with the beautiful wool blanket....

.... just have fun???

Favourite Colour: Green II

Forget me not

By now all of you have certainly understood, that green is one of my great favourite colours. I feel refreshed in studying Farrow&Ball colour charts and one of my most beloved shades are the green ones. Especially the grey greens and mute shades.

Now, as spring is coming without doubt, I wait impatiently for the fresh and lush green - almost neongreen! For once nature has got it right with the Spring/Summer 2012 Collections in Paris and London!

The relativity of time

It is still the beginning of the year - we are not yet officially in spring and cold grey skies are "de rigeur" here in Brussels - but not today. As far as I can see in my environment, last year was somewhat difficult for many of us -  I saw much sorrow and fighting uphill. Let's hope, it will be better  now in 2012. Funnily enough the regular starting of a new year fills me always with hope - and I am by God in the meantime old enough as to know that it is only a randomly choosen date to start the calender and set people at ease. It is better to know what awaits us than not having any frame. Now, in and after the Carneval break, we know, that  there is this heavy workload in school and job before Easter comes up, and then until july it will be smooth rolling over green hills and enjoying the sun and warm days, etc, etc.

When I was a young girl, I always thought my mother peculiar in complaining about how quickly a year passed. Today I say it myself and see the small impatience in the eyes of my own children. What is a week for me today? A wink with an eye. For a 10 year old it is eternity. For me it can feel like eternity if I have some lovely days with my friends in the south of France and come back to Brussels - seems like I have been away much longer and not only 4 days. The quality of our lives has to do with the denseness and relativity of time. A week in my job f.e. passes by in a snip of my fingers. But sometimes an afternoon, where there is no rush and nothing to do, never ends. Time indeed is a "relative" thing.


Remember, when we were children? The summerholidays seemed neverending and nowadays they pass by in a whiff. The time spent in traffic jams feels three times the real 10 minutes, the time destroyed being glued to the television is dripping away like water in your hands. Time cherished being with good friends and in good company makes it seem longer than it actually was. A minute can be an hour in an important moment of your life and years may pass forgotten, because you have nothing to tell for them.

Last september I went to see my mother for her 88th birthday in Bavaria. The days in Munich were dense and full, that it seemed to me that I stayed far longer than 48 hours there. Being congratulated for this special day, she told me amazed with herself, that although she is old in her body and tired, she very often does not feel old. She feels like 18 sometimes and like 123 other times - and both is true. She wonders that her children are now grandparents themselves and that friends who used to be around simply died and leave her alone in a world which gets smaller by the day and faster out there as well every day. And that is true as well.

 It was my first "break" since I had started to work full time and it was therefore something special. I stayed as usual with my dear friend Lilli and went for lunch out into the countryside to visit my mother and the siblings, who had time on their hands to come and celebrate.
We were almost all there, all but one. And it was strange - you feel transported in time and do not at all wonder about it. There we were, sitting all together, talking and chatting away, having fun, the always same old stories being told, the same great bursts of laughter and the same danger of getting on our nerves after more than 2 hours of being together. My younger brother and me are still The Two Little Ones. We both have white hair by now and I have a son who is finishing school in 2012! And I am nearer to 50 now than to 40. But still, The Little Ones we are. I think it is charming - now, at this time of my life I like it to be this way. And the response I gave one of my brothers some time ago, when he told me that I could not possible have any knowledge or idea about a certain subject, as he was 15 years older than me, was : "This is no longer an advantage, I am afraid"! And be both had a great laugh together.
My mother told me when leaving, that the greatest gift for her birthday was to know, that we were still all here.
As I told you: My oldest kid is doing his bac next may, that is, tomorrow. How can it be, that from his birth 17 years ago, until now making his driving licence, has passed so fast? Did he not rush around on his tricycle on the balcony of our small flat in Lisbonne, saying  "I am off to Africa" and me answering, " have a good journey and please do come back!" Last april he was in Africa with his school and did come back as well. The relief.
I am lucky and have friends which I know now for 25 or 30 years: when we meet, it is as if we had just met the other day, not only once a year or once every two years. There have been and are many ups and downs in our lifes, but  here we are and a little bit wiser for it. But the fun and the laughter is the same. This feels like home to me.
Coming back to my dear old mum, she always says in the face of fleeting time, sadness and difficulties: Do not take anything tragic. The only thing that counts is that you and the children are in good health and keep on looking forward....
If that is not timeless advice, I do not know!







It is all true about the time relativity - not in s strict physical sense, but the felt moment ihas another wuality than the non felt and lost.