Dear Stylish Readers,

It has probably occurred to you that I love Paris.  You would be correct in assuming this fact.  There’s a poetic and haphazard charm to the place which continues to fascinate me, the feeling that something delightful and unexpected might be waiting for me around the next corner or behind the next door.  Or in this case, the next email.

Imagine a friend sends you an email asking if you would like to attend a private dinner for thirty people at the Château de Chantilly.  Imagine further that you’d be dining in glorious splendor in the Galerie des Cerfs where the Duc d’Aumale (son of King Louis-Philippe, and the former owner of the château who rebuilt it in the 19^th century) himself dined.  Imagine further still that Leslie Caron and Hubert de Givenchy would be the guests of honor.  For any human being who has not been declared clinically insane or who is not currently institutionalized, there is of course only one correct answer to this proposition.

The American Friends of Chantilly hosted the evening, and it was an interesting opportunity to become acquainted with an organization of which I was not previously aware.  In the end, Madame Caron could not make it because of illness, but Monsieur de Givenchy was there, and he shared with us his memories of doing the costumes for Audrey Hepburn for the 1957 film, “Funny Face”, part of which was filmed on the grounds of the château.  It was very touching as he teared up a bit while recounting his stories of Ms. Hepburn, and it was clearly apparent to me at that moment just how special their friendship must have been.

I could of course rhapsodize ad infinitum about this magnificent evening, or I could just show you the pictures.  Enjoy.

The glorious picture gallery where we had drinks before the dinner.  The art collection housed at the Château de Chantilly is considered the second most important in France after that of the Louvre.

Monsieur de Givenchy reminiscing about Audrey Hepburn and “Funny Face”.

An evening to remember:  Monsieur de Givenchy and Yours Truly conversing in the Picture Gallery before dinner.

Have a look at this clip (which is the final scene of “Funny Face”) which was filmed at Chantilly.  Monsieur de Givenchy was there on the day of filming and gave a humorous account of how all the birds had to be corralled until exactly the right moment (at which point they were “directed” into frame!)  Though you can’t tell, it was apparently freezing cold as well.

Best,

John

At the risk of inducing hôtel particulier/château fatigue, I must share with you a lovely outing I recently attended courtesy of the French Heritage Society. As you may remember, last fall I was privileged to participate in a visit to the Italian Embassy in the 7th arrondissment. Since the 7th was historically an arrondissment of Paris where the nobility and the haute bourgeoisie built very grand homes for themselves, it is no surprise that in our day and age it has become home to many foreign embassies. Owing to the exorbitant cost of maintaining these buildings as private residences, they have transitioned perfectly into our time as the headquarters of Paris’ sizable diplomatic community.

This visit was to the Hôtel de Beauharnais, currently the German ambassador’s residence. (When you’re an important country, you get an embassy AND an ambassador’s residence. God forbid one should have to live above the shop). Built at the beginning of the 18th century, the house underwent a massive renovation at the beginning of the 19th century after it was purchased by Napoleon’s stepson, Eugène de Beauharnais. Done up in the new “Empire” style, it had cost an astronomical fortune to outfit, and poor Eugène had to be assisted in paying his contractors by his none-too-pleased stepfather. After Napoleon’s defeat, it was acquired as the embassy of Prussia, and after German unification in 1871, became the embassy of a united Germany.

We were guided through the embassy by Madame Shafers, the wife of the ambassador, who was an extremely gracious hostess, and who was very proud to be showing off her country’s prime piece of Parisian real estate. (I’d be in high spirits too if I lived in a palace on the rue de Lille with a huge garden overlooking the Seine!)

Well, this designer’s senses were fabulously overloaded. Quelle inspiration!

Best,

John

You know how many times I’ve heard that statement in my shop? It’s always a gateway to a conversation with the client. Let me explain.

Years ago when I started designing jewelry, I seemed to naturally gravitate towards organic and non-representational shapes. Don’t ask me why, it all just sort of evolved that way. (I’m sure a well-trained shrink could tell me why, but that’s definitely beyond the scope THIS post.) And I was pleased with the results. Don’t get me wrong. I do the occasional heart and cross here and there, but there’s something more cerebral and, honestly, a lot more interesting about designing a shape that is open to interpretation. I’ve taken to teasingly referring to these pieces as “glamorous Rohrschach tests”.

The one comment I get more than any other (and I get plenty) is that my work bears the strong influence of Art Nouveau. I rather like that, thank you very much. Who knows, maybe I used to haunt the music halls and cabarets of Paris in another life at the turn of the last century…..

Une petite séléction pour votre plaisir.

Best,

John

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

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