Rare Photos of Karen Blixen (Isak Dinesen)

I've noticed on my blog stats lots of people who find this blog do so because they're looking for Karen Blixen, which makes me quite happy as she well deserves the attention, but on the other hand I don't have so much posted about her - a few pictures, quotes, and a few stories about my own personal discovery of Dinesen as an author.

Here are some other posts for Karen Blixen in case you weren't able to find them:

http://lafemmeflaneuse.blogspot.com/2011/06/updates-karen-blixen.html
http://lafemmeflaneuse.blogspot.com/2010/07/isak-dinesen-africa-and-lions.html
http://lafemmeflaneuse.blogspot.com/2009/02/on-pain.html

Now the pictures I'm posting today are all from a little book I found at a library sale printed by Phoenix, an imprint of the University of Chicago press. At one point Dinesen and the University of Chicago must have had an agreement because aside from my first editions, I have reading copies of all of Dinesen's works from the UC press, but "The Life and Destiny of Isak Dinesen" was a seriously wonderful find.

It contains more than two hundred photographs from Karen's artistocratic ancestors to the very last days of her life. I chose a few I thought might be the most interesting and convinced Monsieur Redacteur to scan them for me because I hate scanning.

Unknown to many, Karen was a very gifted artist as you can see from the portrait she painted of her manservant Farah (whom she treated with great respect and affection).

Karen with her sketchbook in Kullen, July 15, 1907. She was at this time studying at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts.

Karen at her desk and her bedroom in Kenya.

Karen and Bror in the study.

Karen with her pet owl that met a sad end as it tried to eat the cord on a curtain.

Now one of the best parts of the book? Well since it was used it came with an inscription -

Barbara,

No matter what happens in our lives it's good. Everything is for our benefit. Some things are better than others. You are one of the best. Thank for sharing your laughter and love with me!

Mark

And then just a page afterwards, a quote from Karen herself; a facsimile of her own writing and signature and the English translation of the words -

We must leave our mark on life while we have it in our power, lest it should close up, when we leave it, without a trace

Karen Blixen

When I give a book as a present I always inscribe it unless it's a rare or first edition book (then I write the inscription on a beautiful card and give the receiver the choice of having me inscribe the words into the book if they would like) and I could never imagine giving away a book that had been inscribed to me, but here it's quite a touching glimpse because it fits.

Karen Blixen was a woman who trials and tribulations managed still to live an excitingly beautiful and vivid life. She also wrote great books. I can say without reservation I have never read her words without pleasure.

She has been a great inspiration to me and if she's a great inspiration to you, I hope you enjoy the pictures and check out the book.

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The Artful Darger

I fell in love with the art of Henry Darger at first sight. It was what the French call a coupe de foudre, a lightning bolt. I had to see more. The more I saw and the more I scoured for information on Darger, a janitor who upon his death left behind a cave of wonders; the more I yearned like I have never yearned before for a book perhaps I will never have, the complete manuscript of his "In the Realms of the Unreal".

It is one of the longest books ever written at 15,145 single spaced pages. Its full title, often shortened to In the Realms of the Unreal is: The Story of the Vivian Girls, in What is Known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinnian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion. Given the title and the page count it's no surprise that the story is composed of 9,000,000 words in 15 immense volumes.

In my search I got the impression that people are either more fascinated by his art or his life. Darger was orphaned, considered feeble minded, and scraped together a living working as a janitor in a Catholic hospital in Chicago, Illinois. There is a documentary about Henry and his life told by his former landlord and neighbours who knew him while he lived in his room at 851 Webster Street and wandered around collecting garbage pretty much all alone in the world. When he died his landlords the Lerners discovered what Henry was doing with his time; why they heard him often talking to himself; and what all those newspapers and magazines were being made into - perhaps one of the greatest examples of outsider art the world has ever known.

But what about the manuscript? What about the story Henry spent his entire life telling? Not only the story of the Vivian Girls but his own autobiography. Henry is one of the most collectible outsider artists. His former landlords have made money off his art (which is its own story) and yet Henry's story remains untold.

What can you find on Henry Darger's amazing manuscript? The aforementioned documentary by Jessica Yu, "In the Realms of the Unreal" is a good source of information. I've captured some stills including the impressive records and accounting ledgers Henry kept of everything in his world from goods to property and a sort of census of characters.

I want this to be published so badly I even tried to write letters to the Henry Darger Foundation and Kiyoko Lerner, Henry's former landlord who holds the "rights" to whether or not the manuscript might ever be printed whether in part or in full.

In the meantime sadly the only book I can find that has more text from The Story of the Vivian Girls is

a book written by John M. MacGregor that goes for $450 - $700 used.

Please universe, publish an affordable version of Henry's work. It seems ridiculous to not tell his story in a way that everyone can afford.

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Help Julian Gough Become a Contender for The "Not" Booker Prize

Today on Twitter Julian Gough tweeted a link to his blog post titled "Save Civilization by Reading a Funny Book". I was immediately enchanted by this writer's generousity. He's willing to have faith in people and send out a perfect PDF of his book "Jude in London" given that people will read it and write a 150 word review and if they like it, to recommend to a friend that they pick up a copy.

It seems like a slightly crazy thing to do doesn't it, but is it? My immediate response to Gough's post was to implore him to send it to me and a promise to promote it amongst the English speaking expatriate community here in Paris. I wouldn't have done that before maybe. The point is no one ever asked. And so charmingly to boot.

So I say to you Mr. Julian Gough, he of much faith, send me your book "Jude in London" because I am both a lady of leisure and a lady of my word (including an invitation to lunch should you ever find yourself in my neck of the literally woods, the Fontainebleau Forest).

My email is lafemmeflaneuse@gmail.com.

If you want to participate in Julian's little experiment either follow him on Twitter @juliangough or comment on his blog post with your information.

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How I Met My Dog

In honour of my dog's 9th birthday, and yes I am one of those people who celebrate their canine's birthday, I thought I would tell you about why I think everyone should have a pet. Especially if that pet might be a dog.

I found my dog when she was begging for food with her brother outside my apartment door when I was working in Rio de Janiero. Stray animals are everywhere in Latin America, but eventually I couldn't stop myself and I fed her. The reason why I didn't want to feed her was because I knew I would be leaving in a few weeks and I didn't think I could take a 5 week old puppy with me as I trekked through the Amazonian rainforest.

Still I made it work and three months later she was standing in my apartment in the Back Bay looking up at me while simultaneously peeing on the floor, but she looked really unhappy to be doing it. I carried her, mid-pee, out the back door and set her down in the garden. From that day forward she was housetrained. We moved to New York.

I thought it'd be smooth sailing from then on because she was obviously a very smart dog, but the smarter the dog the more trouble they can get into. One day I arrived home to carnage. My loft was 2 floors, one of which was covered in tiny little white feathers (she destroyed my feather duvet) and on the second floor were about 20 single shoes she'd chewed up (she never ate them in paris). I of course had a melt-down. I thought the feathers were sort of hilarious, but no one fucks with a woman's shoes. 20 pairs of designer high heels gone. I went nuclear.

I put her on her leash and dragged her out to my car (which I still had at that time because I was a dumbass who thought owning a car was a sensible thing to do in New York City). I was going to bring her to the pound. I couldn't take the chewing through the wall, destroying everything I owned, and the lifestyle change owning a dog had forced upon me. I was going to bring her to the pound and get on with my life as normally scheduled.

I sat in the car for an hour without even starting it and then took her back into the house. The next day nothing got chewed. She sat. She learned to play fetch gloriously. When my neighbours dogs acted like assholes she was a complete angel. Good with kids, a master of finding things, and the worst thing she would do from time to time was sleep on the bed. I'm still not sure what exactly happened, but from that day either I saw she was perfect to begin with or she saw I was in it for the long haul and started behaving better. I prefer to believe she was perfect to begin with and that I didn't see it until I came to grips with the fact that I was though slightly against my will, sort of in love with my dog. I didn't know people could love dogs so much back then.

It's been 9 years since I carried her through the rainforest in a makeshift baby bjorn and trekked from Rio to Quito, Ecuador with her. Since then we've been all over North America (including Alaska), the United Kingdom, Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, South Korea, Germany, Holland, Belgium, Denmark, and Sweden together.

She talks to me in noises still like she did when she was a puppy. She is also amazing at football/soccer and should have been recruited for the French national team. She plays Frisbee like a pro, jumps like a prized thoroughbred, and has outrun a Greyhound. She is the most intelligent dog I've ever met and even people I know who don't like dogs love her. And if that was all she was - just a good dog I probably wouldn't keep going on about it, but she's so much more.

She's more than a dog to me. What was rough and cold about me she smoothed down and softened. She made me a better person. She taught me it's okay to love with all my heart again. She has given me a light heartedness that I didn't have before she came into my life.

A year ago we had a scare that maybe she had cancer and I never felt so much sadness in my life. I thought I had, but I hadn't. Thankfully it turned out to be just a scare and she's actually very healthy for her age. I tell her she has to live forever. No matter what she always will. If there is a heaven I know when I get there she's going to be waiting for me, probably wondering if I've brought her any food. Or if I've got a ball in my pocket.

I won't be blogging anymore today because I'm taking my furry best friend to the butcher's to chose her birthday steak (we even have an appointment) and to get ice cream (I only let her have vanilla, but she's mad for ice cream) and to run around the park and if you think I'm retarded for loving my dog so much there is a small part of me that is in agreement with you except for the larger part of me that wonders how after reading everything above you can still wonder why I do so much for my dog on the anniversary of the day she came into my life because is she not obviously so amazingly awesome?

If I could afford it I'd feed her a 20 euro steak every day. Like L'Oreal says, she's worth it.

Happy birthday to my furry best friend.

Sit.

Stay.

Live forever!

I love you hound., you're my bitch. Or I'm yours. Either way, I'm pretty happy with our arrangement.

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Some of My New Favourite Things

LUSH

As you know I've been using the 9 to 5 (Matin et Soir) lotion cleanser and I'm still quite pleased with it. Especially when I use it with the Herbalism (Herbalisme), though I have to confess I'm still not pleased overall with Herbalism but I think it's because of my skin type because I use it to exfoliate my hands and I love it for that. Plus I got the Love Lettuce (Balancoire) facial mask which is also exfoliating and have been using that for about 2 weeks now. It leaves my face a little red honestly, but if I use the 9 to 5 to clean my face beforehand, then apply the Love Lettuce mask, leave it so that it's still damp, rinse with coolish water, and then recleanse my face with the 9 to 5 again my skin feels amazing.

Now I also tried the Coco Lotion because they gave me a sample and while I do like the moisture it gives to my skin because it's very hydrating and yet light - I hate the smell. I'm going to ask for a sample of the Karma Kreme next time, but I'm really pleased overall with Lush's products. I just wish they were a little less fragrant.

One added benefit of the Love Lettuce mask? It calms mosquito bites. This alone makes it worth buying in my book. Within seconds the itch was gone.

KLORANE

Klorane's Mink Oil Shampoo and Mink Oil Nourishing Conditioning Balm are my new favourite shampoo and conditioner. Since my hair is fairly long now (to the bottom of my back), it's fairly dry and prone to tangle. I bought this because I'd tried Klorane's mango butter shampoo and conditioning balm and was impressed with some of the results, but it still left my hair a little dry. I decided to give the brand another chance and am I pleased I did. My hair felt as clean and soft and well-moisturised as if I'd just been to the salon and all I did was wash, condition, brush, and let air dry.

Now the one thing I can say against it is it's not recommended for every day use. I don't know how often you wash your hair, but I find washing my hair every 3 days works best for me. Since they recommend 2 intensive treatments with the Milk Oil Shampoo and one regular wash per week, it works out perfectly for me, but if you like to wash your hair more often, you might want to try their Oat Milk Shampoo for every day use.

The website for Klorane has a great guide as well to help you better chose what suits your hair type and if you don't know your hair type they even have a little quiz where you can chose what's your hair concern and they'll make recommendations for you.

My suggestions based on choosing repair & strengthen were for the Mango Butter (repair) and Quinine B (strength) because I don't think the Mink Oil is advertised on the US site. Here are some Google shopping results to get you started in case you'd like to track it down.

Celebrities and stylists and make up artists swear by Klorane's Dry Shampoo, and I agree. As far as dry shampoos go, Klorane's is a great choice. I always brought it with me when I went backpacking along with Bed Head's Leave In Conditioner spray - not to look great, but to keep my hair clean and protect it from damage.

Gwyneth Paltrow, Christina Aguilera, and Sarah Jessica Parker swear by it. As do the girls at French Vogue.

But if you have the same hair issues as  me - longish hair, split ends, thick, coarse, dry - the Mink Oil Shampoo & Balm are the way to go.

NUXE

Nuxe's Huile Prodigieuse is a dream product. I use it usually from fall - spring as in summer my skin isn't all that dry. I like to use it on my hands and neck as well as on my face once a week as a sort of "treatment". It's amazing for feet too. I also use it as a hair treatment by rubbing it through the ends of my hair and wearing my hair up for the day and washing normally later. If you own either the Bliss hand or foot gloves, this works amazingly well with those as well. If you don't own the Bliss hand and foot gloves it's time to invest. Once a week and your hands and feet with be perfectly hydrated. If only they had something similar for the face and neck.

I also swear by Nuxe's hand lotion. It's perfect for carrying around to apply during the day.

Here's a few other things that might not be available outside of France, but are worth a look.

Roger&Gallet - their perfumes are becoming more and more impressive and cost half of what designer perfumes cost. I have a friend who wears a perfume of theirs and I'm always intrigued. You can find their perfumes in nicer Parisian pharmacies or Sephora.

Annick Goutal - I don't know what it is but whenever someone is wearing an Annick Goutal perfume I love it. There's this workshop you can do at their Paris Avenue Victor Hugo boutique on Mondays and Tuesday. The cost is 25,00 euros, which can be put towards the cost of a perfume (min. 80,00 euros)purchased on the same day. Though I suspect with the right amount of interest, you could probably get the same sort of service in the boutique without spending 25,00 euros as most of the Annick Goutal perfumes aren't 80,00 euros and save yourself a little money.

Actually I find the idea of proposing it as a gift kind of stupid as I'm sure they must try and sell something in the process and that wouldn't be so fun for the person you sent to be possibly pressured into a purchase. I think I'll need to pop by the boutique (which I never went to when I lived just around the corner because I'm stupid) to see what it's like.

If you'd like to buy Annick Goutal perfumes for a cause, stop by MERCI the charity shop on Boulevard Beaumarchais (Filles du Calvaire) where 4 of the signature Goutal scents are available at 40% off the regular cost and for a good cause too!

Doc Martens

I had a few pairs of Doc Martens back when I was in my teens, but what I'm nostalgic for is my first pair of Docs - the 30th anniversary edition that was sent to me by a boy I was dating from Ireland. They arrived 2 sizes too big because I didn't think about what a 37 was in UK sizing, but I still wore them until I got myself a pair that was the proper size. Like many of us who were teens in the grunge era, we probably put them away until they came back last year (as the 90's seems to be doing in fashion now).

The other day my pseudo little sister, 18 years old, showed up to visit me wearing a pair of patent leather Docs and the urge came over me. I went to the Doc Marten store at Les Halles and tried them on. I must be getting old because I don't remember them feeling like they needed so much breaking in, even though I also remember having a friend run over a green pair with his car...

I decided in the end that I didn't want the original 1460's and I didn't want them in patent leather either. I'm going with the Pascal because I like the slight gloss of the leather. I'm going to buy them from the boutique and start breaking them in immediately, though I'll also be bringing other shoes, band-aids, and extra pairs of socks with me. I want to break them in before Amsterdam because one thing I realised (when I pulled a muscle) last time was that I need good walking shoes from Amsterdam.

I figure since I want to pack light I could bring Docs and lots of black clothes so I can just mix and match. I hate when I'm packing to leave from somewhere and I realise how many things I packed but didn't wear. This time I'm packing to have plenty of extra room in my suitcase because I can always shop and do laundry while I'm away.

Just over two weeks to break in a pair of Doc Martens... I suppose it can be done. Maybe I can get my neighbour to run over them with his car...

Is there anything you absolutely love right now? Or crave?

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Cookbooks

Yesterday at a second hand bookstore I came across an Italian cookbook by region. I was tempted to buy it, but I didn't. It seemed like a good coobook, but how can one tell? What makes a good cookbook and how can you tell just by looking at one?

I don't own many cookbooks. In fact I own three - Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking Volumes 1 & 2 and another cookbook I bought on Provencal regional cuisine. I bought the Julia Child cookbooks in an older edition second hand because they were 4,00 euros for both and I thought why not, but I've never cooked anything out of it. In fact I've never cooked anything out of my cookbooks because I seem to only own cookbooks for French cuisine, which understandably given my French grandmother was a chef I've never needed. My grandma made sure I memorised every recipe she deemed to teach me. I've never learned from a cookbook because I've either learned from someone while cooking with them or I've figured out the recipe myself (I reverse engineer dishes I love from restaurants for example) and knew what techniques the food was going to need.

I've been playing with the idea of making my own cookbook for a really long time, but it's hard work for someone who doesn't use cookbooks. Not only do I have to choose which recipes would make it into a cookbook of mine, but I need people to test the recipes and learn how to write recipes that are easy for other people to follow. Part of this blog was supposed to be about cooking and posting recipes that people might try and then comment on to give me feedback, so I'm going to focus a little bit on that once I'm back from my holidays.

The thing is, even when people compliment my food and tell me I should one day open a restaurant I don't take them seriously. The reason why is mostly because I don't see a particular amount of talent in what I do in the kitchen. In some ways I take my ability to cook for granted because I don't see cooking as particularly difficult. I think anyone could cook what I cook if they practice and like cooking. I'd love to find a way to put that same mentality into a finished cookbook in such a way that people who cooked with my recipes would feel the same way. I cook with passion for people I care about. That's perhaps the secret ingredient to my cooking. I just love watching people I love eat.

My neighbour, for whom I cooked Korean food for his birthday party is still raving about how pleased his guests were. They wanted to know if I gave cooking classes; they asked for recipes and my advice on this or that. And most of these people were French, so I feel a bit more pride at knowing that I got a bunch of French people to try something new (and spicy).

Now I stopped my post here - thanks to Blogger's draft feature - and went back and bought that Italian cookbook. Why? Because I found reviews about it on Amazon that said the author, Ada Boni was apparently a very famous Italian cookbook writer in the 50's and 60's and it had all 5 star reviews by people who obviously loved this book, thought the recipes were truly authentic (not that I don't love Italian-American cuisine because having lived in Boston for so long I really grew to appreciate the Italian-American cuisine found in the North End of Boston), and simple to follow or to find substitutions for certain ingredients (though now that I've looked through the book myself I'm wondering where I'm going to find fresh oregano and beef suet in France).

One reviewer stated that Marcella Hazan, the famed Italian chef that was a pet of the New York Times apparently learned how to cook from Ada Boni's books. This well-loved and well-respected by none other than Marcella Hazan cookbook was a major steal at 10 euros given it's out-of-print and what I like to call an "inadvertent discovery" (books I want for some reason but don't know why, then come home to research only to discover I've somehow wanted that book but just didn't know yet).

More research on Ada Boni turns up a wealth of information that just makes me want to buy more of her cookbooks. Ada Boni started a sort of lady's home journal called Preziosa and that she published a massive encyclopedic volume containing 2000 authentic recipes by region (beating out the former champion of Italian cookbooks Artusi - who deserves his own post - by 1400 recipes) known as the Talismano della Felicità, The Talisman of Happiness. (I found all this information on a wonderful Italian cooking blog you can find here called Memorie di Angelina.)

I'm now terribly impatient to cook something from this new cookbook. I don't know where to start, but I suppose I will start with Venice as I lived there for a year and my memories of Venetian cuisine are still very close to my heart though it's not my favourite overall. Now I love southern Italian cuisine, but in the winter months I crave the type of cuisine one can eat in the north. Osso bucco with saffron risotto is probably my favourite Italian meal. If the weather keeps it up, I might actually be able to justify making it!

Here's the cookbook I purchased which is as I said out of print. You can find copies via Amazon or ABEBooks. Here's a link on ABE which is the same as the one I bought that isn't too expensive.

What are you favourite cookbooks and if you've cooked from one of Ada Boni's books before, what did you think?

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French Magazine "Horoscope" Predicts Amy Winehouse's Death

I ran across this at the newstand today. Remember when I posted about Amy Winehouse's unfortunate death and the magazine? This is it.

Apparently it was a big topic of discussion on French websites the morbid coincidence that this magazine said Amy was fated to join the "27 Club" because of the align of the planets (specifically Neptune) and how despite only having a few months left before her 28th birthday this "prediction" has sadly come true.

On http://www.whenwillamywinehousedie.com/, 4 people predicted the exact date of Amy Winehouse's death, one of whom did so in December 2007. That person has won an iPod touch, presumably manufactured the same year the oh so lucky winner made their prediction.

I didn't want Amy Winehouse to die. I didn't think it was funny or interesting that she looked all fucked up all the time or that she flashed her crotch when some papparazzi just happened to be there to photograph her most intimate of parts.

When Monsieur Redacteur told me about this magazine I thought it was a humorous coincidence because I didn't believe she was going to die. You can read more if you like about my reaction to the news of Amy's death here.

I was catching up on episodes of The Glee Project, one of my favourite shows and one of the contestants sang "Valerie". It was a sad moment realising that at the time the show aired Amy was alive and perhaps making her comeback. Though there is lots of things in the news about Amy having died because of alcohol withdrawal, it's highly unlikely that anyone dies from alcohol withdrawal, but why would that be better news? It's even more tragic. Not ironic as some many news articles are stating. It's flat out fucking tragic if she died because she was trying to stop drinking.

I haven't been able to get the song out of my head all day. So this is for all of you and her too. It's a song that showed what Amy could do. She could sing.

God she had a beautiful voice. Listen to her live and then a recording and tell me it's not almost exactly the same. Her voice was perfection. Our generation's Billie or Nina.

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Go the FOK to Sleep

I'd hear of the book "Go the FOK to Sleep" by Adam Mansback before, but it wasn't until I listened to it read by Samuel L. Jackson that the book came to life for me.

That being said, is this book really for children? Of course it isn't (at least I hope it isn't). It is hilarious though and more so if you've ever found yourself in a situation where you had a kid who just wouldn't go to sleep. It reminds me quite a bit of when my god daughter was young and getting her to bed required diplomacy, patience, and strategic outmanouvering such as heading her off at the bedroom door when she had to go to the bathroom yet again...

Here's the book as read by Samuel L. Jackson. It makes the story better, even in the parts where it gets very repetitive.

Best line? "I know you're not thirsty, that's bullshit. Lie down and go the fuck to sleep".

The book started when Adam Manbach Facebook'd "Be on the lookout for my forthcoming children's book, 'Go the Fuck to Sleep,'". Eventually after receiving positive responses, he sat down and wrote the book (which he insists thankfully is for adults).

Of course I can't go the fuck to sleep since it's 10 am, so I'll be going the fuck to town to run errands and find a way to use up the liters of guacamole I made last night...

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Paul Poiret and Yves Saint Laurent - Fashion Royalty

Paul Poiret (1879 - 1944) was a sort of childhood prodigy when it came to creating beautiful things. I found a copy of his autobiography and highly recommend it to anyone who either wants to learn about fashion history or loves Paris. It was a fascinating  and inspiring read.

Paul Poiret's story starts in the neighbourhood of Les Halles. Back before Les Halles was one of the worst places to have to pass through on public transport or a seedy teen hangout, Les Halles was the biggest market in Paris before they moved it out toward Orly in 1971.

I found this amazing video, unfortunately entirely in French for non-French speakers about the market. Imagine that during Poiret's time the market had been open for a few decades and was in full swing. His own father was a merchant and the Poiret family lived in buildings built especially to house the merchants and other workers of the market.

A book I highly recommend for anyone who might be interested in Les Halles before Poiret's time is Emile Zola's "The Belly of Paris". The book takes place in 1858 and is a must read for anyone who is interested not only in the Les Halles market, but also in the history of Paris or of France's foodie history. You will feel both nauseous and delirious with hunger thanks to Zola's gift with words. You might also ended up having an extreme distaste for materialism and the bourgeois classes, because Zola was also a genius at satire.

Paul Poiret grows up in this market, always surrounded by the wares intended for those who could afford them, and while his family wasn't poor they weren't rich. One thing I truly enjoy about his autobiography is that it is obvious that he not only acknowledges his humble beginnings, but takes immense pride in being "cultivated" through his own efforts. He spends his money as any proper member of the nouveau riche should on lavish parties and as he puts them "extravagances", but Poiret also did a number of extremely charitable things with his money. Les arts decoratifs (the decorative arts) was a movement almost entirely founded by Poiret - something that doesn't even seem to warrant a mention in other books I've read about Poiret over the years. He also bought a great amount of art from friends, took them on inspirational yatching trips around the Mediterrean (at the cost of 100,000 francs which would be 15,000 euros in today's money without calculating for what 100,000 francs was really worth in Poiret's time so imagine what it'd really be in today's money with inflation) and never snubbed les provincals as most Parisiens would.

Being such a fan of Yves Saint Laurent, I can see so many parallels in their lives and careers. Poiret started selling his designs at a young age and worked for Doucet and the Worth brothers until he decided to set off on his own. Saint Laurent was a talent from a young age and beat out other hopefuls (including Lagerfeld) and ended up working for Christian Dior who himself intended to be his successor after he was gone. Poiret was the king of marketing, but Saint Laurent wasn't shabby either. One need only think of the Chinese ship Saint Laurent hired for a party in New York to launch his Opium perfume and realise that he got the idea from Monsieur Paul Poiret, who was the first person to ever understand that the fancy parties, the beautiful models, and living a certain lifestyle were all essential to making women want to wear your clothes.

One interesting thing I learned from Poiret's autobiography is that he was the first to understand that a fashion designer must have his Muses. For Poiret his wife Denise was his greatest Muse. He saw in Denise, a girl from the provinces, but with some potential for more perhaps a bit of himself. He cultivated her with clothes and made her the most fashionable woman of Paris. Saint Laurent has his Muses, both of whom are two of my major fashion icons Betty Catroux and Loulou de la Falaise. It's because of Betty (whom I see from time to time in Paris) that I hunted down a le smoking for years (I finally found one after a search that started when I was 13 years old when I was 29 in my size and I could afford it since it was somehow only priced at 120 euros) and it's because of Loulou that I think it's perfectly okay to wear what my friends call my "Disco Ball" dress (it's a vintage black crochet dress from the 70's covered in 1 euro coin sized gold sequin disks that basically reflects lights when light hits it in a way that requires sunglasses to look at me).

My Muse, my grandmother Juliette, gave me my first Saint Laurent jacket (introducing me to the Saint Laurent shoulder) and skirt suit. I think I've talked about her before, but even now there is a part of me that hopes I will age gracefully like my grandmother and that my wardrobe will some day be as beautifully furnished and my style equally effortless seeming as hers. She inspires me.

Poiret is undoubtedly inspired Saint Laurent's and even if he didn't confess it openly, one could easily see Poiret's love of Orientalism and flare in Saint Laurent's collections.




Poiret's famous kimono coat.




Velvet coat, Paul Poiret




Cocktail outfit, Paul Poiret




Day dress, Paul Poiret




Evening dress, Yves Saint Laurent 1981



Suit, Yves Saint Laurent S/S 1978

Dress, Yves Saint Laurent S/S 1971

Dress, Yves Saint Laurent S/S 1967

Now normally I wouldn't have let anyone usurp YSL from my esteem. In terms of creation and construction, Yves Saint Laurent and Cristobal Balenciaga may be the greatest createurs (a word that differs from designer in that it means someone who truly creates something) the world have ever known.

The "Saint Laurent shoulder" I was passed down like an heirloom from my grandmother is still not forgotten by the women who know of its magical ability to transform the feminine silouhette. Just yesterday when I went into a swanky vintage shop to see how much they wanted for a second-hand calf leather tan Birkin (which I never found out, but they were asking 15,000 euros for a black crocodile Kelly bag) and talked with the Madame there both of us agreed, "One doesn't find the Saint Laurent shoulder anymore and the woman's jacket suffers from its absence." (I translated what the Madame said and my response was "ce type de qualité n'existe plus" (This type of quality no longer exists.) 

But reading Poiret's biography was to gaze into the omphalos of why Paris is the capitol of fashion (not just because La Chambre Syndicale de la Couture says so in their marketing campaign). Clothes and other things were always made in other places, but only because some genius who went to Paris like Poiret made them fashionable. We win because of the sheer number of createurs who knew France was the place to have their genius appreciated - Worth, Madame Gres, Poiret, Jean Patou, Cristobal Balenciaga, Chanel, Schiaparelli, Doucet, Christian Dior, Maison Massaro, Lesage, Vionnet, Saint Laurent, Courreges, Ungaro, Alaia...

It has been a long time since fashion has been exciting to me. Poiret's autobiography brought out all those old feelings. It makes me want to get dressed up and go out somewhere wonderful and drink champagne and laugh and live.

Poiret understood women. He knew that there is something beautiful and mysterious and wonderful about each and every one of us. Today I've remembered that.

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Roasted Chicken Aftermath

Yesterday I roasted two whole roasting chickens in the oven. I always roast my chickens two at a time because any extras get used up in delicious ways. Yesterday's chickens were nothing fancy. I rubbed them with a paste of butter, salt, pepper, a pinch of cayenne flakes, some lemon juice, thyme, and a little bit of nutmeg. The end result was a moist chicken with a delicious jus that collected at the bottom of the roasting pan. I served the thighs with white rice and some vegetables and nibbled a little extra here and there (like the oysters, which are my favourite part).

Today I'm going to use some of the breast meat to make a salad using a few of the peppers and tomatoes I've grown in our community plot along with some of the rosemary I grew. It'll be simple just the chicken and bits from the garden along with cucumber, feta, and lots of thinly sliced red onions. I might also make some croutons, but I'll focus my attention mostly on how to make this simple salad as delicious tasting as possible as that means making an excellent dressing.

One thing I'm really into at the moment for summer is fresh herb dressings. So instead of using powdered onion, garlic, etc. I use all fresh onions and garlic to start and then make something with what I happen to have that's fresh and around. For tonight I have fresh rosemary, parsley, basil, and sage. I've decided to stick with parsley, sage, and rosemary.

Fresh Herb Dressing

handful of fresh roughly chopped parsley

6 leaves of fresh sage finely chopped

10 "leaves" of fresh rosemary

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

2 T salt

1 T dried oregano (is it impossible to find fresh oregano outside of Italy??)

liberal amount of freshly ground black pepper

1 T sugar

1/8 cup balsamic vinegar

3 T Dijon mustard

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 cloves of garlic finely minced

1/2 red onion finely minced

1/4 cup of finely chopped feta cheese (optional)

Add the salt and balsamic vinegar and let dissolve. Next add the Dijon mustard and mix to dissolve. Add the fresh spices, oregano, sugar, garlic, onion, and feta cheese if using. Slowly dribble in olive oil while mixing until the mixture is blended and add the lemon juice.

Let sit at least 30 minutes, but overnight is better.

Whatever is leftover is going to become homemade chicken soup.

I make my own chicken broth using the carcass (bones), leftover jus, and inedible bits of chicken. Since there's already thyme in the juice, I'll only need to add bay leaves, fresh garlic, fresh sage leaves, chopped fennel, onion, and a little bit of carrot to create my broth or bouillon. It will take several hours as I'll need to get rid of the scum that forms as I simmer my ingredients.

I always make my chicken stock the day before so I can leave it to come to room temperature overnight. This allows the fat to congeal easily on the top and you can decide how much of the fat you want to keep. I always keep a little for homemade chicken soup as it adds to the flavour.

I have Day Two bouillon now. I let it sit overnight covered, stirred it this morning, added a little salt (notice I hadn't added any yet), brought the liquid level up the original amount when I added the carcasses, and it's now simmering again on the lowest possible heat.

I'll post more about my chicken soup including recipes and pictures later.

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Grammar'ing With Google - Season 1 Episode 1 "Say It Ain't Sew"

Today on FB someone recommended the book "A Garlic Testament" by Stanley Crawford. Apparently he's going out to New Mexico this fall to "sew garlic with Stan". A few comments down he posted a correction - he meant he'd be sowing garlic with Stan this autumn.

Now in the meantime I'd wondering about the use of s-e-w and I did a Google search for sewing garlic, which returned 3,360,000 results. A search for sowing garlic only returned 547,000.

"That's a popular misspelling" the future sower of garlic responded when I posted my findings on FB.

Sew and Sow are homophones, words that sound the same but differ in spelling and meaning. A homophone shouldn't be confused with a homonym. A homonym is a word with the same spelling and pronounciation but can have many different meanings (like the word set for example).

For non-native English speakers (such as myself) homophones, homonyms, and homographs can be a little tricky and lots of ESL (English as a Second Language) materials are devoted to helping people learning English to get it right. Monsieur Redacteur who is a Professeur d'Anglais has this helpful advice: "Don't think about it."

Apparently 3 million plus people don't.

Image courtesy of Pound Exclaim.

And that's all for Grammar'ing with Google for today folks. Until next time.

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Catfish - The Social Network Meets The Night Listener

A few nights ago I watched the documentary Catfish.  I found the name of it on a blog somewhere about little movies that got lost in the "blockbuster" shuffle in 2010. I thought it was a documentary about some guy making friends with an eight year old girl over Facebook. I wish I could remember which blog I saw the description on now because I'd love to ask which movie they were actually talking about.

Just imagine I'm bracing myself for some sicko documentary about some documentary film directors proving that Facebook doesn't protect children from online predators - but something's off. First off the film is populated by hipsters. There's Nev (Nev Schulman) who is the "main" character in this documentary. He's a photographer...he's receiving packages of art work from an 8 year old girl in Michigan. The artwork is impressive. There's something flat about the colour, but it's charming because you know the picture has been painted by an 8 year old.

Then the tone of the movie chanages a little. Nev develops a little crush on the eight year old Abby's nineteen year old sister, Megan. I can understand why. The girl is beautiful and apparently is good at everything. Or is she?

I don't want to ruin the documentary for those who haven't seen it, and you really, really should. It's been a long time since I've been so engrossed by a documentary.

Here's the trailer in case you want it.

--- There Be Spoilers Below!!! ---

If you don't want it all ruined for you I would not read on. One of the great things about this movie is that while watching it I had someone sitting next to me I could turn to and say "WTF" to and who is slightly more innocent (and perhaps less of a cynic) than I am who refused to believe that the bad part was coming. Me, I was on to the whole thing the minute I head Meagan's voice.

I knew Nev was headed for disaster and that is what makes this film so touching. It really kind of is a love story. A sick, twisted, fucked up one where poor Nev gets his heart broken. Meanwhile nothing is as it seems. Angela turns out to be a sad woman, Nev feels a fool, and the real genius of the whole show is the guy who is too stupid to figure out his wife's online lover is sitting on his porch filming him.

Now since seeing the film I've let the Internet get to me, so let me just say either Nev Schulman is the best actor ever or Catfish is a real documentary. It doesn't matter really. I was pretty entertained and interested in the characters and that's good enough for me either way.

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Make a 10 Minute Dessert Look Like It Took 60 Minutes

Sometimes when I cook a big meal I don't want to mess with dessert. Truth be told despite some of my baked accomplishments (like cheesecakes), I really dislike baking. I'm sort of a pinch of this - bit of that kind of cook. Baking requires precision and attention over long periods of time where it seems like nothing happens. I like the fast pace of bringing the meal together. Once it's time for dessert I've exhausted my supply of culinary fireworks.

Hence this dessert. Ideally served in the summer months when lots of different berries are in season, this dessert impresses and requires very little effort on your part.

I buy quatre-quart in France, but poundcake works just as well. I slice it into nice thick slices, sprinkle sliced strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries - use a small spoonful of Bonne Maman jam, some whipped cream, and voila! A yummy dessert that will impress, but be simple enough that it's obvious you're not trying to fool anyone. You can use peaches, berries, and even crushed chocolates (with cherries is yum too).

I use the same cake to make a fruit tiramisu (with raspberry liqueur), but that definitely takes longer than 10 minutes, so I'll feature that the next time I make it, which may be very, very soon as this was a delicious treat after a long day of running round Paris (you know, scouring my favourite vintage boutiques).

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I'm Bored of Cooking...

Every once in awhile I get bored of cooking.

Last week on top of every day cooking I cooked a bunch of massive meals. Steaks, pepper sauce, Oreo cheesecake, buttermilk pancakes, fried porkchops breaded with brioche crumbs and peanut crumbs, marscapone and wasabi whipped potatoes, and then for my neighbour's birthday on Saturday alone I made 3 kilos of galbi, kimchees, mini-paejons, and lots of other assorted Korean side dishes. I made enough extra that I didn't have to cook all day Sunday or Monday, but now I'm sick of Korean food (for a few days anyways) and have to make a decent dinner after having had a bowl of Golden Grahams for lunch (and a banana).

It's rare I'm not inspired to cook. Even when I'm not inspired to do much else I can always think of a delicious meal that will challenge my culinary skills and make my tummy happy.

Usually when I can't thinking of something I want to cook I look at food blogs, but one sure thing is always to look at the Food Network's website.

Now the weather is cold. I thought about lasagna, but I would have to make sauce, so that's took much work for me at the moment. I'd like something spicy though.

What I'd really like is a nice plate of buffalo chicken wings. It's something I miss from time to time. I ate them at least once a week in my college days, usually followed by a massive square pizza with loads of toppings.

So that's what I'm going to cook tonight. Good ol' fashioned American Hooters fare, except I'm going to have to get creative. Blue cheese is readily found in France, but blue cheese dressing isn't. I'll have to make my own. I'll also have to make my own hot sauce and I'll be lucky if I find Tabasco sauce.

Here's tonight's menu...

Starter

Buffalo chicken wings w/celery sticks and bleu cheese dressing

Mains

Beef and sausage meatloaf w/ pomegranate molasses and homemade tomato ketchup glaze, Southern style baked macaroni and cheese, and green beans with bacon.

Dessert

?

The buffalo wings with bleu cheese dressing and a smidge of celery.



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Amy Winehouse Dies at 27

Just recently Monsieur Redacteur and I were talking about Amy Winehouse - a French newspaper last week had a headline about Amy and how she only had a few months to join "The 27 Club". I didn't take it seriously because I had hope, as a fan of Amy's incredible voice, that she was going to clean up and come back with some amazing album. Sadly Amy Winehouse passed away in her Camden home, most likely from an overdose.

I don't want to write much more on the topic because what is there to say? I want to blame the tabloid culture, but they're only partially to blame. The tabloids exist for a reason. I want to blame those around her who failed to protect her and steer her course better, but I have known people who had that same knack Amy had for meeting the wrong man and a few like Amy seemed to meet too many of the wrong sort of men so that by the time something better came along the hope of being able to stay better was long gone. They all had a sort of fragility and no matter how much you want to help or how hard you try to help - sometimes people just stay lost.

Of all the Amy Winehouse songs I love, I suppose "Back to Black" will always be my favourite. It's a sad song, but it was obvious from the first listen that here was someone singing their heart out.

Here's a picture of Amy that does her justice. Not the famous Amy of the signature beehive and the tattoos. I look at this picture and think there's the girl who once thought everyone could sing so she didn't quite comprehend the talent she had. But for me, what I'll remember is that the first time I heard "Help Yourself" off Amy's first album "Frank", it was the first time I heard somebody sing like her.

Amy recorded a third album that wasn't released because of some of her troubles. I am going to hold on to hope that it's the amazing album I hoped she'd record because even though she's gone maybe this third album will be her last gift to her fans.

And I just want to say in closing; in the spirit of the song clip I'm going to post that no matter why she died or what problems she had there isn't another person in the world that could sing like Amy Winehouse could and not just because she had great pipes. Would it still be a great song if it were sung like a grocery list? "I die a hundred times", Amy sang, and you feel those hundred deaths.

Tonight Amy, Amy, Amy, I feel one hundred and one.

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