Dear Stylish Readers,

 As a creative person by profession, I am constantly nourished visually and aesthetically by my daily surroundings in Paris.  One of the most visceral and abundant of these visual joys is Paris’ rich architectural variety.  But though there is much for one to feast one’s eyes on, it is only the tip a very large iceberg.  Much of the richness lies behind the façades, most notably in the city’s hotel particuliers.  These large city homes built mostly in the 17^th and 18^th centuries by the aristocracy and the haute bourgeoisie are exquisite examples of the taste, refinement, and grandeur that is France.

 That is why I was extremely fortunate recently to join the French Heritage Society’s private tour of the Italian embassy in the 7^th arrondissment.  Known alternatively as the Hôtel de Boisgelin or the Hôtel de la Rochefoucauld-Doudeauville, it was built in the 1720’s and is located in the rue de Varenne, a street  already home to many other important houses (most famously the Hôtel de Matignon, official residence of the French Prime Minister).

 Well, Stylish Readers, Italy may be hurdling towards economic Armageddon, but one would never know it by their embassy in Paris.  In fact, we could barely hear the guide speaking at the beginning of our tour for all the clanging and banging caused by workers bringing in all the champagne and wine for that evening’s diplomatic reception!  (Perhaps a celebration of Berlusconi’s departure?)

Let’s have the pictures do the talking.  Enjoy.

Hamming it up in front of the glorious cheminée.

This last image is fascinating:  what appears to be a reflection in a mirror is in fact a clear pane of glass with the same exact objects on either side of the glass placed in exactly the same position on their respective mantles.  As our group moved from one room to the other, we were all fooled.

Best,

John

Dear Stylish Readers,

Though it’s a regular working day here in La Belle France, I will luckily be attending a lovely Franco-American Thanksgiving gathering this evening chez mes amis. Wishing a lovely day to all back home!

Best,
John

Dear Stylish Readers,

Excuse my absence from the blogosphere. I’ve been delighted to find out through the grapevine recently that there are actually more than three people reading my blog, so I promise to post more!

Which brings me to today’s post: Deyrolle. It’s impossible to find a proper definition for it. It’s not a shop. As its proprietor Prince Louis-Albert de Broglie explained to me, it’s an institution. And what an institution. It is a veritable “cabinet de curiosités” replete with taxidermied animals, collections of insects, and all manner of objets, books, and exotica relating to the natural world. One feels as if one has stepped back into the 19th century, and that Charles Darwin himself might step out from behind a doorway to help you with your purchase.

Prince Louis-Albert de Broglie introducing us to Deyrolle

The occasion was a cocktail reception hosted by the Prince for members of the American Club of Paris. An avid environmentalist, he believes passionately in all things organic, and he personally blended a tomato concoction from a sampling of the 650 different varieties of tomatoes grown at the Château de la Bourdaisière, his estate in the Loire Valley. (For full disclosure, Stylish Readers, I didn’t actually get to TASTE the concoction as Yours Truly, hemmed in by the narrow configuration of the room, was stuck serendipitously on the other side near the champagne.)

Have a look at a place that could ONLY exist in Paris.

I swear I really do have some non-red pants in my wardrobe.

Best,
John

Dear Stylish Readers,

In keeping with my love of Old School Socialites, I simply must pay homage to a member of that increasingly small tribe who recently passed, the chic and fabulous Casey Ribicoff.

Widow of Connecticut senator, Abraham Ribicoff, she was a fixture on New York’s social scene for many years and was the friend and confidante of designers, politicians, and artists. Her sleek, polished style recalls the elegant Upper East Side attitude of a vanished generation: Jackie O, Diana Vreeland, lunch at La Grenouille, the bar at the Carlyle Hotel…..

R.I.P., Casey. Please tell Jackie, Diana, Nan, Slim, and all the girls I said hello.

Best,
John

Dear Stylish Readers,

The famed French August vacations are over, and as Yours Truly deals with the harsh reality of a fading tan, I thought I would share a few tidbits of the summer in pictures.

The above image was taken in Valencia, Spain where my partner, Luis, and I spent two sun-drenched weeks taking in the pleasures of Spain’s third largest city. It’s the City of Arts and Sciences complex designed by world-reknowned architect and native son, Santiago Calatrava. If I don’t exactly look like George Jetson, you can forgive me for feeling a bit like him in this environment. The only things missing were the flying saucers.

The back of Valencia’s beautiful medieval cathedral.

Lost in a foreign country. Maybe the muscled shirtless stranger will point me in the right direction.

Luckily I had the fashion foresight to wear the appropriate color for our visit to the Museum of Fine Arts.

Earlier in the summer, I attended a luncheon at the Cercle de l’Union Interallié hosted by the American Club of Paris. The Cercle is a sumptuous private club on the rue de Faubourg Saint Honoré, a tony artery running through the center of Paris. A former private home, it is nestled in between the British embassy and the American ambassador’s residence, with the Élysées Palace only a stone’s throw to the west.

The guest speaker was Rachida Dati, the former Minister of Justice in President Nicolas Sarkozy’s cabinet, and the current representative for Paris in the European Parliament. Madame Dati caused a bit of stir a while back by deciding to have a child. She is unmarried and has yet to divulge the identity of the father. (Could you imagine THAT in the U.S.? Every right-wing, bible-thumping nut job would be positively apoplectic with rage.)

But enough about politics, let’s look at the pretty pictures.

The dining room before the arrival of the guests.

Yours Truly, Unknown Interloper, Madame Dati.

Well fed and making my exit from the luncheon on this glorious staircase.

Another amusing time was had at the birthday of Scott, a friend visiting the City of Light for his fortieth birthday. The celebratory dinner was held at Georges, the ultra-modern restaurant at the top of the Centre Pompidou in the Marais.

Scott, Yours Truly, and Luis. Marais rooftops in the background.

Alas, back to the grind.

Best,
John

Dear Stylish Readers,

Recently I attended a party at the Hôtel de Talleyrand, a sumptuous 18th century residence on the Place de la Concorde that had once been the residence of Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord. Depending on your perspective, he was either one of history’s most skillful diplomats or one its most manipulative charlatans. Either way, he lived WELL. In his long life he served every monarch from Louis XVI to Louis-Philippe. Talk about having witnessed history. He saw it ALL.

Owned by the United States government (and a stone’s throw from our embassy on the other side of the Place de la Concorde), the hôtel particulier was where the Marshall Plan was administered in the years following World War II. Having recently undergone an impressive five million euro restoration, it was a perfect venue for the American Club of Paris to welcome its new president, Joseph Smallhoover, and say a appreciative “thank you” to our outgoing president, Portia Eltvedt.

Of course with the Cotton Club/Roaring Twenties theme, it quickly devolved into the perfect venue for drinking copious amounts of champagne, socializing with friends, and indulging in the shameless extravagance that is France. Feast your eyes on this dazzling building.

The view from the balcony.  Could you just die?

Champagne, the Eiffel Tower, sunset in Paris.  Does it get any better than this?

Best,

John

Dear Stylish Readers,

Any designer, artist, or creative person will tell you the same thing: inspiration can come from anywhere, at any place, and at any time. Our visual world is made up of any number of aesthetic details which can trigger an immediate flash of inspiration; or sometimes the detail enters the brain by osmosis, completely subconsciously, only to manifest itself later in the artist’s work.

Take a look at the absolutely stunning ironworks which separate the first floor windows of number 11 rue Jacob (where yours truly’s shop is located) and number 13 right next door. I know nothing about them other than they are the constant object of many tourists’ camera lens.

Is it possible that its close proximity to me for the last four and a half years was the inspiration for this sterling and pearl necklace? You be the judge.

Best,
John

Dear Stylish Readers,

My sighting of Princess Michael of Kent earlier this week got me to thinking about other royal style icons, namely Princess Michael’s mother-in-law, Princess Marina, the Duchess of Kent.

Long before the days of Princess Diana, Princess Marina was considered not only the most beautiful woman in the British royal family, but also its most stylish. Born Princess Marina of Greece, she was the daughter of Prince Nicholas of Greece and his Romanov wife, thus making her first cousin to Prince Phillip, the Queen’s husband. She fell in love with and married Prince George, Duke of Kent, fourth son of King George V. Theirs was a love match, that rare occurence among royalty, cut tragically short by his death in an airplane crash while on active service during the war.

Feast your eyes on the lavish de Laszlo portrait of her painted in the 1930’s as well as these two splendid black and white images. There’s something strikingly modern about her look, and of course, one needs to remember that royalty didn’t really LOOK like this back then.

Very inspirational for this designer. Hope you agree.

Best,
John

Dear Stylish Readers,

Anyone who knows me even just a little bit knows I’m hardly fond of celebrities. Their co-opting of the fashion industry coupled with their endlessly tacky preening on the red carpets of the world has cheapened “le monde de luxe”, at least for this designer. It takes more than a blond starlet with “buzz” to get my style pulse racing.

So imagine my delight yesterday when, looking out of my boutique window, I spied Her Royal Highness Princess Michael of Kent! She was with her entourage (it’s the only way, really). Tall, regal, statuesque, stylish beyond measure, and with an air about her we only read of in a Henry James novel, she was whisked into her waiting sedan as she left my neighbor’s shop directly across from mine.

I stood at my door as her car sped away. She gave me a little “regarde”, and that was that. Not a even a damn royal wave. Quelle triste.

Best,
John

Dear Stylish Readers,

One of the great joys of having my own shop is the periodic window change. It’s a chance to be creative in another way, and to give the potential client an immediate, visceral idea of just exactly who “John Agee” really is. I’ve decided it might actually be a good idea to record all of this for posterity!

Call me old school, but even in this world of Facebook, Twitter, and all things quick and virtual, I’m convinced nothing will ever replace the thrill of happening upon a beautifully and artfully done window display, or “vitrine” as the French call it. Generally in my work as a jewelry designer, I’m not very thematically oriented. I never do an “Egyptian” collection or an “Art Déco” collection simply because things like that have been done and I don’t find them appealing. I take the same approach to window display. I find it much more interesting to see a menagerie of jewelry displayed at varying heights and depths among various “présentoirs”, most of them gleaned from my very decorated apartment (rarely do I need to buy props, I simply cast about chez moi for something, and I always seem to find what I need!) The result is a bit like an elaborate stage set.

In this particular “scène” we have many light and beautiful spring baubles, very soon to be purchased by the BP’s, I’m sure (that’s the Beautiful People for the uninitiated, NOT British Petroleum). They are displayed amongst a round wood 50’s table I got from my father, a small Chinese wooden stand I purchased in Shanghai some years back, a tall Indonesian column supporting a necklace, a bamboo ladder, and a wonderful coffee table book of Francesco Clemente’s portraits, among many other “belles choses”. Eclectic, no doubt. The cherry on top of the sundae is a framed quote by Diana Vreeland: “Never fear being vulgar, just boring.” Enjoy.

Best,
John