I have decided to change my challenge of writing a story every week to writing a story every other week but don't fret (if anyone even notices which it doesn't seem that they do), I am currently working on a book! I am not going to say just yet what it is as it is only in the research phase but it takes up a lot of my time so I need to focus on that and less on my creative endeavors. I am also changing the blog dates from Mondays to Fridays as I am watching a little baby now and that works better for my schedule.
With that said, I recently finished up Mademoiselle Chanel by C. W. Gornter. This is the first book I have read by him and it came with great praise by Michelle Moran.The book was very interesting and true to Chanel's history. It is also very sympathetic to her and her dealings during WWII. It is difficult to know exactly what she was involved with during the war and with the Nazis but this book makes her seem entirely innocent and I feel as if that is too good to be true. She is written as a little cold and slightly arrogant which may have been her persona but it is difficult to read through that. The story is very rich and interesting and I learned a lot about the infamous Chanel because of it. She was an ambitious woman and cared deeply for those she loved which is evident in the book. I would recommend this to anyone who is interested in history and the early 20th century.
Week
17 & 18 (27 April-10 May 2015)
Paris
“Paris...”
the words tumbled from her lips like the ribbon of the iconic
Tiffany & Co. teal box being undone to reveal the most glorious
gift inside. Her heart was the keeper of this present and now it was
exposed. She was there, on the streets of Paris, with the warm summer
heat creeping through her body enticing her to move from the spot she
inhabited. Noise seemed to be never ceasing. Car horns honked to
remind traffic it had one job, to move along. The streets were the
fastest thing about the city. Cars whirred by, daring pedestrians to
try their luck at crossing anywhere other than a crosswalk.
Everywhere else seemed to be a turtle's pace. People sauntered down
the sidewalks stopping to check out the latest handbag in the window
of a chic shop. They grabbed a warm baguette and tore pieces off,
occasionally tossing a piece to an unsuspecting pigeon. Parisians
walked as if they had nowhere to be and ate carbs like their hips
just devoured any ounce of fat left on them.
Paris,
she had made it! She was there! Her heart racing and stopped all at
once absorbing every sight she could take in, from the traces of
pre-Revolution architecture to the modern apartments with sleek
windows overlooking cobble stone streets. She watched young lovers
hold hands and treat each other like every person in the world had
disappeared but them. Pigeons darted into the sky as a crowd of
Parisians and tourists alike crossed the road. How lucky are those
pigeons she thought, they get to live in this glorious city of
love! The soft, floral perfume of a Parisienne mingled with
cigarette smoke infiltrated her nostrils as she took in a city like
none other she had ever seen.
Effortlessly
stylish women sipped glistening glasses of French wine and gossiped
with one another at a nearby café. A gaggle of children heading to
the Louvre for their school trip abroad swarmed past her. A man
dressed in a crisp suit and skinny blue tie to match his sapphire
blue eyes dashed passed her towards the Metro to his spectacular job
in the city. Paris was abuzz with locals and tourists alike. She made
her way towards the Seine, glancing at her husband knowing full well
he was just as delighted with their adventure as she was. At the
river, that cut through Paris like a thick knife, people dangled
their feet into the cool water. The sun was giving everyone more
reason to ignore responsibilities as the heat and moisture gave the
city a hazy glow. The banks of the Seine were filled to the brink on
the shaded portions as stands sold cold drinks, nutella crepes and
nutella covered Belgian waffles.
She
sauntered through the city in its oppressive heat, eventually taking
sanctuary in a delightful café near the Pont Neuf. Sipping chilled
beers and munching on fresh macarons, they gazed at each other. Dewey
sweat kissed their brows and exhaustion tickled their feet, and yet,
the city never ceased to exude love. It crept through them in that
little café pinching red to their cheeks and alleviating all
feelings of weariness from their bones. The days of their tripped
consisted of getting lost in random streets, bouncing from museum to
café to museum to café. Everything was lazy and late. Breakfast at
10, lunch at 3 and sometimes 4, dinner at 11 with pastries, wine and
beer encompassing every snack break in between. There was never a
lack of delicacies to tantalize their palate and warm their bellies.
Sharing food and strolling through Paris seemed to be the easiest
ways to fall in love. They yearned to keep going but the cool air
conditioning and their feet begging for a break kept them for a
while. As the sun began to go down and the heat eased, they choose to
seek out dinner.
The
clear blue sky had morphed into a spectacular evening glow of purple
and pink. The feminine colors mingled in the sky like the silks of a
Parisienne's scarves. Soft, effortless, inviting, twirling around the
Eiffel Tower like a painting, daring the sun's beams to disturb its
dance. As day faded to night, more lovers advanced on the city. The
radiance of Paris seemed to only grow as the sun dipped behind the
iron symbol of France. Lights illuminated late night cafés enticing
you to sip some champagne and savor escargot. She couldn't believe
how tantalizing each street had become without the glorious sun; the
absence of heat may have helped a bit.
Monet,
Manet, Rembrandt, Picasso, Dali, Coco Chanel, Josephine Baker, Edith
Piaf, Victor Hugo, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hemingway, the greatest names
in history were made my Paris and in turn made Paris. She strolled in
their steps, eating at Hemingway's haunts, traversing Marie
Antoinette's final steps, watching as the shops maintained the
sophistication Chanel created. She fell in love as they had fallen in
love; the city challenging all to try not to do so. As she soaked in
the city her mind was buzzing. The history and beauty filling her
brain until she just couldn't fathom leaving Paris. She sipped
champagne from the evenings dinner and smiled at her husband.
Paris... she
sighed and closed her eyes, imprinting their trip forever in her
mind.
