go rafa!

have i ever mentioned before how much i love rafael nadal?  i might have a time or two.  and now he's heading into the semi finals at wimbledon.  you rock rafa.  good luck!

it's all my mother's fault

i blame it all on my mother... that is the fact that i long for exotic places, interesting people and romantic yet creaky old interiors.


it all started the day that she gave me a copy of the secret garden. up to this point, i was still reading winnie the pooh and madeleine. which were very fine books indeed but once my eyes fell on the secret garden, i was ready for more grown up books. books that maybe everything didn't always turn out perfect and that sometimes people died and maybe not all children had a mother and father. those kinds of books.

after the secret garden, i would lock myself in my room reading books from page to page and longing for an attic bedroom and my own secret garden. which was a big dream because i lived in arizona and we didn't have english gardens there. to this day, i still dream of my secret garden and attic room. and i'm getting closer now because i have a yard and a house with more than one story after many, many years of apartment dwelling.


then there was the house in paris. oh what would it have been like travel alone by train to paris to stay with a spinster and her mother? to wonder what secrets they were hiding up those narrow stairs. and to meet a boy who had no mother and to learn at a young age the complicated dynamics of a girl and boy.


last year i read sophie dahl's, playing with the grown ups and it took me back to these stories that i read as a young girl.

oh if only my family had been a little more bohemian like hers and if my grand father had written the greatest children's story of all time. and what if i traveled to london and was discovered by a vogue stylist who loved the fact that i ate what i wanted and wore high heels at too young an age. oh what a life that would have been!


so today i just made my first summer reading purchase of sophie's first book, the man with the dancing eyes. i long for summer days sitting in the grass and reading frivolous things. this one will be perfect with it's naturalized illustrations. i have a feeling it may have it's own secret garden, too.

so yes mom, thank you. thank you for turning me into a hopeless romantic. and for showing me that even if we didn't have an old victorian house with my own attic bedroom i could one day live in a city with beautiful old houses and one day even have one of my own if i wanted.

well, i guess it's not so bad after all.

blanc de blanc

how about a little sofia coppola blanc de blanc?


i love her simple classic style with a masculine touch. she is understated, glowing and beautiful.

courtesy of rdujour

a little f. scott in paris

have you all gone to see midnight in paris yet? i was finally able to see it over the weekend and i'm pining to go see it again. it so reminded me of my time in paris 5 years ago. there really is something magical about that city, don't you think?

the scene with f. scott fitzgerald and zelda brought back such memories for me. you see, i was traveling through paris alone, on my way to visit a friend in brittany. someone had suggested i stay at the hotel st. andre des artes. so i got a room at this quaint little hotel in st. germain. the hotel is rumored to once have been a stable that the three muscateers had used as a hiding place. i don't know about the whole three muscateers thing but the hotel did resemble a stable, complete with exposed cross-beams in many of the rooms.

my room in the hotel was butter yellow and had two long french windows that opened up and looked out over rue st. andre des artes. across the hotel was a cute little alleyway that had been turned into shops all facing the cobblestone alley that was closed off to vehicles. after a long day of travel, i just wanted to relax in my hotel and get some rest. i headed over to monoprix and picked up some bread, wine and cheese and my favorite shampoo, le petit marsellaise.

when i was passing through nice, i stopped in a bookshop where they sold books in english and picked up a few for the latter part of my trip. one of the books was the great gatsby. believe it or not, i had never read it before!

i returned to my hotel and after dining on my wine and cheese, i opened up my window and sat looking out over st. germain reading the great gatsby. i guess, subconsciously, i was saving such a great book to read in a special setting. i almost read it cover to cover that night before dozing off...only to wake up in paris. no, this was not a dream.

i remember this time like it was yesterday. sometimes i can't believe i really took this trip by myself. and while paris is best to be shared with one you love, i'm happy that i took my first trip there all alone to discover it for myself. now i can go there with the one i love and show him all of the places that i visited and fell in love with. oh to be in paris...