Not a Fashion Blog, but a Fashion Post

Clothes. We all wear them. I like wearing clothes that suit me, that I feel comfortable in, and that are reasonably fashionable. People seem to dress in similar ways throughout the Western world, with a few differences.

Here's a little bit of what I observed being worn in Paris and London: 

Skirts - short (not just on younger women), mid-knee, and maxi (but never trailing on the ground). Lots of prints, usually small geometrics and florals. In Paris the prints were in softer shades, like the skirt above, than in London, where black backgrounds were seen more.

Dresses, again in a variety of lengths and prints. Black was not uncommon. Lots and lots of jean jackets, on big girls and small ones.  

The weather was warm, but not hot, and almost everyone in Paris wore sandals, either flat or wedged. Scarves almost always. Above is one of our tour guides. Lace seems to be a continuing trend - yokes on knit tops, or more rarely, a textured top.

Well-fitted and well-balanced outfits - fitted pants and top with a more flowing third layer that was never over-sized. 

Then there was tourist style - earbuds and listening devices, hats and sunglasses. 

Walking into our home very very early on Sunday morning (12:30 am) was lovely. We slept well, spent yesterday quietly at home, and today Tim is back to work. The garden needs attention and I have a list of projects I'd like to accomplish. All in good time. 

There will be more posts about our trip - so many places I have not yet shown, but they will come slowly. 

Found While Wandering

I awoke early this morning and something on Facebook sent me to the news. I am so shocked and saddened to read of this latest attack in France. Should I write about lovely things when so many are hurting? Yes, I shall. For if we stop living our lives in the old ways, if we become creatures who scurry into isolation and suspicion, then those depraved terrorists have won. I will pray for France and for those who are hurting. I will be vigilant. But I will not hide away in fear.

On Tuesday morning we left our floating cocoon of luxury and took the Paris Metro up to the Gare du Nord. We had hours before our flight to London and so we put our luggage in storage at the train station. 

Paris is a huge city with plenty of pavement and tall buildings. But tucked away behind some of the massive doors that attract my eye are little gardens. A Parisian tour guide told us that if the doors are open, we should feel free to wander in. So we did. Several times. Peaceful green oases. Some formal, some intended as playgrounds. 

Bright flowers, usually just one kind. Red geraniums in one garden, pink hydrangeas elsewhere. Roses in yet another.

This garden is not behind doors, but tucked away at the end of a winding narrow street. It's really three garden rooms, each leading into the other. The first room has a plaque - this is the Anne Frank Garden, and there is a tree, grown tall now, that began as a shoot from a chestnut tree she could see from her hiding place. 

The next room contains the rose walkway and trellis seen above, with benches for contemplation, and a green lawn area where a yoga class was happening. 

Further in, a playground rang with ... not the sounds of children at play, but workmen with noisy machinery making improvements. 

Perhaps Anne Frank's example would be a good one to follow today. She maintained her curiosity about life and people. In the midst of fear, she found the ability to see beautiful things.

Paris Details

Walking through Paris is a feast for the eyes. My neck feels like it's on a swivel most of the time as my gaze wanders up and down, left and right. Not all balconies are as beautifully decorated as this one, which makes it extra picture-worthy.

An interesting swirl of vines in a rough heart shape adds charm to this window on Ile Saint Louis. 

Paris' skies have been mostly cloudy, and it's cool here. I'm glad for my jacket. And my hair is frizzing away. When the sun does shine and the sky turns blue, I take off my jacket and revel in the warmth on my back.

And I take photos. The cross above is part of Notre Dame Cathedral. 

An interior shot of Notre Dame. It's amazing to consider the construction of these buildings in an age without machinery and technology. Such mathematical precision, such awareness of force and gravity, such patience in building. 

Tim took this photo of me sitting on the ledge of a stone pillar in the apse of the cathedral. Given the comfort of this seat, I wonder who else has rested here over the centuries? The long procession of history here boggles the mind of this woman from the "new" world. 

Lunch, eaten outside while we watched the crowds flow by, consisted of today's special: for me, Endive Salad with Roquefort cheese, Salmon and Leek Quiche. Lovely. 

Doorways painted in shades of dark green, shiny black, forest green stand in harmonious juxtaposition to stone buildings. This paler blue one begged me to take its photo. I obliged. 

We wandered over to the Jardin de Luxembourg and watched small children push sailboats across the pond with rubber tipped sticks provided by the park. Older people, some of whom are fascinated by boats, marveled at the way the sails on these little wooden boats are trimmed so precisely to enable them to sail merrily across the pond in straight lines without tipping. The boats are all marked with various countries - this red and white one has CA on it - for Canada.

Gardens in France are not as lushly floral as those elsewhere in the world. This bed or petunias, begonias, cosmos and salvia caught my eye.

Today has been interesting. After our breakfast of tea and chocolate bread (for me), cafe au lait and apple pastry (Tim) and a shared yogurt, we and our friends planned to take the Metro to our cruise rendez-vous hotel and then go on a hop on hop off bus tour. 

We got onto the Metro, but after just a few moments, I heard an announcement about strikes. The train stopped and everyone got off. All the civic employees went on strike. Hmmm. How to get to the meeting place? Buses weren't working either. We were fortunate enough to hail a taxi who drove through gridlock traffic, planned alternate routes when streets were blocked off with police tape, and got us to the hotel. 

Staying nearby seemed most prudent, so we wandered through the Montparnasse Cemetery, bought delicious sandwiches at a Monoprix, and watched the pigeons while we ate.

As I type, I'm sitting in our cabin on the Avalon Creativity watching the water lap outside our window. Wifi is good now, but is likely going to be very spotty in the future. Hence a long post two days in a row. 

Music in Paris

In 1248, nearly 800 years ago, Louis IX of France finished the construction of La Sainte Chapelle. Amazingly, it took just 7 years to build, compared to almost 200 years of building for Notre Dame. 

La Sainte Chapelle is most well-known for its truly amazing stained glass windows. On the upper floor of the chapel, the columns between the windows are merely there to support the intricate stained glass.

This evening (Monday), after our first full day in Paris, we went to a classical music concert in the chapel. It was an experience that played tricks with my mind.

On the one hand, I marveled at the creativity of humankind, of the beauty that is expressed through architecture, glass, stone, and paint. The music that soared upwards to the arches and filled every nook and cranny of the space was equally beautiful. Creative expression was a reminder, to me, of one way that humans are created "in the image of God."

I gazed up to the blue ceiling decorated with golden stars as the string quartet played Mozart, Schubert, Vivaldi, and Pachelbel, and wondered, on the other hand, how we humans, capable of such amazing expressions of the deepest longings of the soul, can also inflict terrible pain and destruction upon other humans. The dichotomy baffles my mind.

I also wondered at the justice of spending so very much wealth on the construction of such a chapel designed not only to hold the supposed relic of Christ's crown of thorns, but also to consolidate political and religious power, at a time when the gap between the few very rich and the many very poor was immense. 

In some ways, when I look at today's world, I see that the rich still take advantage of the poor, and wonder that so little has changed.

But most of my time was spent in wonder and amazement that I, an ordinary woman of the 21st century, could sit in this jewel box of a chapel constructed by an absolute monarch of the 13th century and listen to music composed between those centuries. It was a beautiful gift.

Sunlit Memories

I awoke Saturday morning to the sound of wrens chirping. And light. So wonderful. The promised rain forecast was a dud! Instead, the sun shone and the birds chirped and I worked in the garden and didn't take one photo.

Instead, I'm showing photos from my trip to Europe with my sister and mother a number of years ago.

I'm happily anticipating our visit to England as a new adventure, and a return to France for more familiar adventures. 

This window latch, found in the King's Grand Salon at Versailles, is one of my favorite images. How many hands touched the latch? Did anyone fling open the window and call to someone in the courtyard below, or was it all pompous duty? What stories this little detail could tell.

Linking to Sunlit Sunday, hosted by Karen of My Little House and Garden.