Hussein Chalayan at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs

Yesterday, I sort-of lied. I will be visiting Paris from time to time while I'm in France. Having a Parisian friend or two helps for this sort of thing (merci d'avance, ML!).

The lovely thing about being so close to such a big, real city is that there is always something going on. For years, I've been reading information and articles about the multitude of fascinating cultural events - exhibitions, talks, performances - that big, real cities are simply bubbling over with. For years, I've been sighing away all the interesting spectacles I've been missing in places like New York and Paris.

Now, a word of clarification is in order. I'm not one of those people who is always going and doing. I'm generally not terribly fond of crowds, and I don't like a lot of noise. But every once in a while, an event comes along that makes me wince at the idea of missing it: something such as, oh, the Big Bambù installation at the MET, or Marilyn Monroe at the Musée Maillol (which, in fact, I did see; but only because I had the good fortune of being in Paris at the time).

So all this to say, I can't wait to see Hussein Chalayan's fashion designs at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs. I first read about this in some French magazine that I was perusing while awaiting a facial at my friend Debbie's spa last week (yes, the facial was great; message me if you'd like more info about the spa). Chalayan's design concepts pique my interest for multiple reasons. Of course, a quick glance at the photos is enough to make me want to go. Then, the narratives he is said to give for each design, and their connections to his cultural and geographical backgrounds, are equally intriguing. But the Times article that I've linked to here also describes the conceptualization process: "Yet the most fascinating exhibit is not the rotating figure in a high-tech glass observation box but Mr. Chalayan’s intense sketches, tracing the journey inside his head as he creates his clothes." Aha! I'm so there. Oh, and ML, you're coming too.

Une Amerloque en Normandie

It's August 20th. In one month and five days, I will get on a plane and travel to France, where I will live for... well, at least seven months, and most likely quite a bit longer. I'll be living in Normandy, working in Normandy, and researching in Normandy. And yet no one ever fails to ask me, "When are you leaving for Paris?", "How long are you staying in Paris?", or to state the obvious, "Oh, you're going to have fun in Paris!"

Except that I won't be in Paris. This is Paris:

Paris is the Eiffel Tower, the Seine, the Arc de Triomphe, confused tourists walking SLOWLY wearing EVERY PIECE OF JEWELRY THEY OWN, busy Parisians walking FAST wearing BLACK, smoking cigarettes, stopping only to linger over a café (coffee) and croissant (croissant) on a terrace with little chairs facing out to the street, so that they may scowl at passersby or gossip with fellow Parisian friends about how obnoxious the tourists are: "ces sacrés amerloques!"

No, I'll be in Normandy, and more specifically, in a little town called Flers. I'm not really sure what to expect, except one thing: cows. There are lots of cows in Normandy. Since there are cows, there is also a lot of fields. And cow-produced food. Such as cheese. And butter. And, well, beef.

In addition to living in Flers, I'll be traveling to Caen quite often as well, which is also in Normandy, but is a much bigger town. This is a picture from my last trip to Caen:

So I'm starting this little web journal so that, if you so wish, you can follow my experiences in France. Think of it as a buddy pass: your personal invitation to live vicariously through my travels. Although, consider yourself forewarned, there are no Champs-Elysées in Normandy. But there are indeed "les champs"...