One lonely tourist
Facades of the Marais
An old-fashioned perfumery
Dejeuner au bistro
It's lunchtime
Metro hoping
Teatime
Parisian Lemon Meringue pies
Hot Chocolate... the real thing!
A transitionary home for my soul stuck somewhere between the Swiss Alps and Parisian chic.
April 20, 2016
April 17, 2016
Let's go for a run...
Sunday morning and it's a beautiful spring day... well, maybe more like Spanish lunch time (2pm) and I finally manage to get myself together and take myself for a run around the lake in the Bois de Boulogne. It has been a long time since I've last been on this side of the hood ... and it feels sooooo good!
Avoiding the crowds ...
One day I will have to check out what's in that tower!
New PiNk running shoes... yeah!
Where's Heidi?
Spot the PiNk!
Need my prince to take me for a ride!
A peaceful sunny Sunday in Paris
Last sprint up the hill towards the Arc de Triomphe... only in Paris!
April 16, 2016
Remembering the little girl I was...
How can you create an exhibition of a 57 year old doll and give her a platform usually reserved for the greatest artists of our time?
Well, the answer is simple: her name is Barbie and she has accompanied millions of girls through their childhood years.
However, only Paris could pull this off with so much style contemplating the success of this iconic doll by contextualising her within a cultural and social history of the 20th and 21st century.
Located in the Palais du Louvre's western wing, the entrance of the Museum des Arts Decoratifs was grandiose and, oh, so Parisian. At the top of the grand staircase stood a bright pink door inviting my Flaneuses friends and I to enter the magical world of Barbie.
Two of us were clearly enchanted the minute we entered the exhibit since we lost ourselves in reverie right in the first hall standing in total awe surrounded by an object which had taken over a good part of our lives between the ages of six to twelve.
We watched two wonderful documentaries about the history of Mattel and learned that the company's name is derived from Harold "Matt" Matson and Elliot Handler, who founded the company in 1945. Matson soon sold his share to Handler due to poor health, and Handler's wife Ruth took over Matson's role.
Much to my surprise I learnt that the success of not only Barbie but also Hot Wheels (little toy cars which my little brother and later my son would spend hours and hours playing with) were thanks to this creative and innovative husband and wife duo and not just streamline products of the huge company Mattel is today.
We waded through Barbie models from 6 different decades, spotted familiar models on the big "Family rainbow tree" - all I could remember were Skipper and Ken - and admired the real life couturier dresses the Barbie dresses had been inspired by.
Who remembers the Spice Girl Barbies? Or the Marie Antoinette one? Ever seen the Andy Warhol or Audrey Hepburn version? The stewardess, the vet, the architect and of course the princesses were all on display.
The absolute highlight was a 10 meter wall covered in Barbie clothes. Thousands of outfits had been carefully and creatively pinned on a black panel in perfect colour coordination ranging from pink (obviously!) to dark blue.
I walked out of the exhibition elated and a bit overwhelmed with all the memories of my childhood that had come flooding back. I could still see myself at my best friends' home sewing miniature clothes for our dolls and playing with the biggest acquisition I had ever made until then: a Barbie swimming pool!
Four decades later Miss Pink is still my best friend eventhough we don't live in the same country, I just wish we could have shared this special moment. Her memory is so much better than mine!
Well, the answer is simple: her name is Barbie and she has accompanied millions of girls through their childhood years.
However, only Paris could pull this off with so much style contemplating the success of this iconic doll by contextualising her within a cultural and social history of the 20th and 21st century.
Located in the Palais du Louvre's western wing, the entrance of the Museum des Arts Decoratifs was grandiose and, oh, so Parisian. At the top of the grand staircase stood a bright pink door inviting my Flaneuses friends and I to enter the magical world of Barbie.
Two of us were clearly enchanted the minute we entered the exhibit since we lost ourselves in reverie right in the first hall standing in total awe surrounded by an object which had taken over a good part of our lives between the ages of six to twelve.
We watched two wonderful documentaries about the history of Mattel and learned that the company's name is derived from Harold "Matt" Matson and Elliot Handler, who founded the company in 1945. Matson soon sold his share to Handler due to poor health, and Handler's wife Ruth took over Matson's role.
Much to my surprise I learnt that the success of not only Barbie but also Hot Wheels (little toy cars which my little brother and later my son would spend hours and hours playing with) were thanks to this creative and innovative husband and wife duo and not just streamline products of the huge company Mattel is today.
We waded through Barbie models from 6 different decades, spotted familiar models on the big "Family rainbow tree" - all I could remember were Skipper and Ken - and admired the real life couturier dresses the Barbie dresses had been inspired by.
Who remembers the Spice Girl Barbies? Or the Marie Antoinette one? Ever seen the Andy Warhol or Audrey Hepburn version? The stewardess, the vet, the architect and of course the princesses were all on display.
The absolute highlight was a 10 meter wall covered in Barbie clothes. Thousands of outfits had been carefully and creatively pinned on a black panel in perfect colour coordination ranging from pink (obviously!) to dark blue.
I walked out of the exhibition elated and a bit overwhelmed with all the memories of my childhood that had come flooding back. I could still see myself at my best friends' home sewing miniature clothes for our dolls and playing with the biggest acquisition I had ever made until then: a Barbie swimming pool!
Four decades later Miss Pink is still my best friend eventhough we don't live in the same country, I just wish we could have shared this special moment. Her memory is so much better than mine!
Pavillon de Marsan's magnificent staircase
Barbie's most famous portrait
La Barbie Parisienne
The Dior Barbie
Can I get a copy of that ski suit?
My prince has come along with many pairs of shoes
My most cherished acquisition at age 10
Christian Leboutin's dedication to Barbie's 50th birthday
Three Christian Dior dresses with Barbie size replicas in the background
I'll have one of each of these outfits please!
1980 Aerobic Barbie... remember the multi-coloured leg warmers?
A collage of thousands of Barbie outfits
Close-up of the collage in PiNk, of course!
April 9, 2016
What it takes to make a home
What makes a spot feel like home? Is it because it's the place you live in, the local food you appreciate, the cultural traditions you enjoy, the location's natural beauty or does it just boil down to good friendship?
We have lived in many places and some have stuck with us more than others, to the point where the ones that have conquered a part of our hearts we still call home whereas the others we hardly ever talk about anymore.
Paris is officially our home but we also call Lugano and Madrid our home. Years ago I would have argued that one might be schizophrenic to so convincingly feel part of not just two but three communities. Today I know that not just my husband and I have created a strong bond to these places but the kids feel totally integrated in all three as well.
Of course, the fact that we regularly return to Lugano and Madrid renders the feeling of home easier. But the question remains: why do we so enjoy returning to "our homes"?
Yes, we love the local food and we travel back to Paris with our luggage full of goodies every time to cure our home sickness. Yes, we have adopted traditions from each country which we add to our rather eclectic yearly calendar of family celebrations. Yes, we do speak the local language and follow the who's who of the moment on regional TV and yes, we enjoy the natural beauty each location has to offer... but in the end...
... in the end...
... it is the human factor that makes all the difference.
Our homes resemble Grand Central Station the minute we arrive. Neighbours popping by to greet us, girl friends coming round for brunch, family friends inviting us for dinner, kids enjoying sleepovers, teenagers hanging out in the den listening to music, aquaintances catching up with us, custodians and gardeners happy to see us, the postman and the lady at the bakery intrigued by our lifestyle but appreciative of our loyalty.
Expat girl is convinced that even the cows down the road recognize her when she returns to Lugano!
It is the feeling of belonging that turns a place into a home. The consciousness of being appreciated and cherishing the good things in life such as true friendship. The demonstration of affection and the loyalty and respect that comes with it ... from both sides of the relationship.
This might sound like a cliché but I believe it is what ties us to our homes ... since ... how lonely and boring would a home be without the life and soul of human beings!
We have lived in many places and some have stuck with us more than others, to the point where the ones that have conquered a part of our hearts we still call home whereas the others we hardly ever talk about anymore.
Paris is officially our home but we also call Lugano and Madrid our home. Years ago I would have argued that one might be schizophrenic to so convincingly feel part of not just two but three communities. Today I know that not just my husband and I have created a strong bond to these places but the kids feel totally integrated in all three as well.
Of course, the fact that we regularly return to Lugano and Madrid renders the feeling of home easier. But the question remains: why do we so enjoy returning to "our homes"?
Yes, we love the local food and we travel back to Paris with our luggage full of goodies every time to cure our home sickness. Yes, we have adopted traditions from each country which we add to our rather eclectic yearly calendar of family celebrations. Yes, we do speak the local language and follow the who's who of the moment on regional TV and yes, we enjoy the natural beauty each location has to offer... but in the end...
... in the end...
... it is the human factor that makes all the difference.
Our homes resemble Grand Central Station the minute we arrive. Neighbours popping by to greet us, girl friends coming round for brunch, family friends inviting us for dinner, kids enjoying sleepovers, teenagers hanging out in the den listening to music, aquaintances catching up with us, custodians and gardeners happy to see us, the postman and the lady at the bakery intrigued by our lifestyle but appreciative of our loyalty.
Expat girl is convinced that even the cows down the road recognize her when she returns to Lugano!
It is the feeling of belonging that turns a place into a home. The consciousness of being appreciated and cherishing the good things in life such as true friendship. The demonstration of affection and the loyalty and respect that comes with it ... from both sides of the relationship.
This might sound like a cliché but I believe it is what ties us to our homes ... since ... how lonely and boring would a home be without the life and soul of human beings!
April 6, 2016
My unfaltering Dutch friend
My partner in crime is leaving. She is a tall, straight-forward, warm-hearted Dutch girl. You either like her or you don't and that's fine by her.
We hit it off right from the word go even though we did not meet outside of school during the first couple of years. She has been in Paris longer than I, has older kids than I and has been more involved in the school than I and therefore was always one step ahead of me. I have learnt a tremendous deal from my friend. I watched her and listened carefully when she spoke trying to stash all the information in my memory somewhere in case it came in handy some day.
It was not until I too had become an "old-timer" at school and hence less involved in all the new parents' activities that we started seeing more of each other and we discovered we had one big passion in common: our kids' education.
This has led us to endless hours with our heads stuck together leaning over issues that would help mould the school into the best it can be. We had the Swiss-Dutch connection going full force and I mean we did everything from photocopying thousands of pages for an assembly to planning for the years ahead.
We got things done - usually in a most efficient way - and we knew we could count on one another to keep deadlines and watch each others backs. Neither of us can stand lose ends!
We both have our own projects on the side and again they turned out to be similar. We have cheered each other on through thick and thin.
The time has come to say "Au Revoir". Our paths are separating and I am sad to see my lovely resilient, adaptable, vivacious, hard-working, positive Dutch friend leave for her new destination.
However, this is what our expat life is all about, we write chapters in each others books and these memories remain with us when we move on to new adventures.
No one has ever said it better than Anais Nin: "Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."
We hit it off right from the word go even though we did not meet outside of school during the first couple of years. She has been in Paris longer than I, has older kids than I and has been more involved in the school than I and therefore was always one step ahead of me. I have learnt a tremendous deal from my friend. I watched her and listened carefully when she spoke trying to stash all the information in my memory somewhere in case it came in handy some day.
It was not until I too had become an "old-timer" at school and hence less involved in all the new parents' activities that we started seeing more of each other and we discovered we had one big passion in common: our kids' education.
This has led us to endless hours with our heads stuck together leaning over issues that would help mould the school into the best it can be. We had the Swiss-Dutch connection going full force and I mean we did everything from photocopying thousands of pages for an assembly to planning for the years ahead.
We got things done - usually in a most efficient way - and we knew we could count on one another to keep deadlines and watch each others backs. Neither of us can stand lose ends!
We both have our own projects on the side and again they turned out to be similar. We have cheered each other on through thick and thin.
The time has come to say "Au Revoir". Our paths are separating and I am sad to see my lovely resilient, adaptable, vivacious, hard-working, positive Dutch friend leave for her new destination.
However, this is what our expat life is all about, we write chapters in each others books and these memories remain with us when we move on to new adventures.
No one has ever said it better than Anais Nin: "Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."
Veel geluk en goede reis!
April 2, 2016
A quick trip around the world
It is the Primary school's absolute highlight of the year.
International Day: when each country gets to share its cultural traditions, national costumes, folk music, local handcrafts, drink and food with the rest of the school community. The dynamics and the size of the stands change each year depending on the nationalities and the number of representatives in each class, but you can count on an exhilarating and unique experience every time.
As I walked through the gate a smiling principal welcomed me and I watched as each arriving child received their own "passport" full of questions. The answers were to be found at each country stand scattered throughout the two school buildings which then entitled them to a stamp in their passport.
Needless to say the Brazilian stand's reputation preceded them ... like every year. Their colourful and creative decorations top every other nation and of course the music as well as the Caipirinhas help their cause.
National flags and local colours were to be spotted everywhere. The Indian contingency was out in force with bright pink as were the Malay with green, yellow and red and the Americans with their stars and stipes. The Belgium and the Dutch teamed up and managed to get a stand out on the much-desired terrasse. Italy shared a room with Spain and the ambiance was animated to say the least. New Zealand and Australia were already well into party mode by noon and the French for some reason were presenting lemons along with their olives?!? Whatever happened to cheese and wine?
The Japanese stand were very polite and well-organised and the Koreans insisted I try some of their delicacies called Bibimbap (mixed rice).
I did taste some Swedish meatballs thinking of my friend who has moved earlier this year and who for years had headed this stand. I admired the Norwegians all dressed in their classic wool sweaters and had a chat with a charming man from Iceland.
Unfortunately there are no Swiss enrolled in the school therefore I had to forgo my ration of chocolate but I was thrilled to discover the West-Africans had decided to participate this year with a wonderfully decorated stand. Admiring the hand-dyed batiks hanging from the walls I watched the women moving gracefully to the background music. They introduced me to their customs while I was attempting to figure out how they had tied their different headgear, clearly an important part in Africa's fashion.
I have not mentioned all the countries present today, they were over 30, however, I will say that every year it is intoxicating to explore the world in half a day, while meeting new parents and seeing some warm, familiar faces that remind me of the "good old days" when my kids where still in Primary School.
This year rather than eat my way through International Day I drank my way around, starting with a Spanish Tinto de Verano, followed by a Brazilian Caipirinha, an Australian fruit punch, then a West African ginger juice and a Jasmin juice to end with an American Jello shot. I'd say it's time for a nap!
International Day: when each country gets to share its cultural traditions, national costumes, folk music, local handcrafts, drink and food with the rest of the school community. The dynamics and the size of the stands change each year depending on the nationalities and the number of representatives in each class, but you can count on an exhilarating and unique experience every time.
As I walked through the gate a smiling principal welcomed me and I watched as each arriving child received their own "passport" full of questions. The answers were to be found at each country stand scattered throughout the two school buildings which then entitled them to a stamp in their passport.
Needless to say the Brazilian stand's reputation preceded them ... like every year. Their colourful and creative decorations top every other nation and of course the music as well as the Caipirinhas help their cause.
National flags and local colours were to be spotted everywhere. The Indian contingency was out in force with bright pink as were the Malay with green, yellow and red and the Americans with their stars and stipes. The Belgium and the Dutch teamed up and managed to get a stand out on the much-desired terrasse. Italy shared a room with Spain and the ambiance was animated to say the least. New Zealand and Australia were already well into party mode by noon and the French for some reason were presenting lemons along with their olives?!? Whatever happened to cheese and wine?
The Japanese stand were very polite and well-organised and the Koreans insisted I try some of their delicacies called Bibimbap (mixed rice).
I did taste some Swedish meatballs thinking of my friend who has moved earlier this year and who for years had headed this stand. I admired the Norwegians all dressed in their classic wool sweaters and had a chat with a charming man from Iceland.
Unfortunately there are no Swiss enrolled in the school therefore I had to forgo my ration of chocolate but I was thrilled to discover the West-Africans had decided to participate this year with a wonderfully decorated stand. Admiring the hand-dyed batiks hanging from the walls I watched the women moving gracefully to the background music. They introduced me to their customs while I was attempting to figure out how they had tied their different headgear, clearly an important part in Africa's fashion.
I have not mentioned all the countries present today, they were over 30, however, I will say that every year it is intoxicating to explore the world in half a day, while meeting new parents and seeing some warm, familiar faces that remind me of the "good old days" when my kids where still in Primary School.
This year rather than eat my way through International Day I drank my way around, starting with a Spanish Tinto de Verano, followed by a Brazilian Caipirinha, an Australian fruit punch, then a West African ginger juice and a Jasmin juice to end with an American Jello shot. I'd say it's time for a nap!
Drawings for the Passport Cover competition
Hey hey from Sweden (or was it Switzerland?!?... just kidding!!!)
Mexican beer bringing a bit of sunshine into your life
I have finally found an Argentinean empanadas supplier who does home deliveries!!!
When Ghana meets Mexico while eating a falafel
Who knew India recognizes 23 languages?
Just look at that head gear!
Ready for the Olympics
Delicate Japanese origami
Too cute!
Need to answer the question if you want a stamp in your passport
What IS this Malaysian animal?
It's a paaarty down under!
Adorable Chinese girl
Malaysia meets Spain for some handy craft
Colourful Costa Rica
Bienvenu en France
Korean princess
First Jello shot ever!
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