Heimstone sweet home

I had never heard nor seen of this label before I had to kill some time while my husband was waiting in a very (very!) long line at Poilane to buy a pain au chocolat. Wow- I was impressed. It's rare to see clothing with an edge in Paris that you can actually pull off without looking like you've had an unsuccessful career in the theater. I'm not sure if I can personally pull off Hemstone's brass designs, but I want to try. I feel like their pieces are the exact type of thing you yearn for when you want to do something out of the box, but you're not ready to try a new haircut. I love (love, love!) the Tina and Nico dresses. And you can't help but fall for their video lookbooks. So irreverent! So fun!

Photo by StyleServer

I want to cuddle with Fausto Santini

Futuristic, colorful, flexible, tactile- that's how I'd describe the pumps and bags at Fausto Santini. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I have the distinct impression that my life would be remarkably different if I owned the "Maggiolinaprugna" in orange, or the "Reflexcedro" in green. I also think my husband's life would be vastly improved if I had discovered the "14Caffé" wallet many, many days ago, instead of on Christmas Eve. Oh well! Vivre les soldes, right?

Photo by Camille Hudson Shoes.

Jardin du Palais Royal- MAISON FABRE

If you, like me, are tired of the endless array of shops selling mediocre tunics and faux-organic T-shirts for a good third of your salary, follow me, dear readers, to La Maison Fabre. I have fallen hard for this artisan glove maker who has been treating the hands of well-heeled Parisians since 1924. Gloves, you say? Really? And yes, really- forget handbags and the blanket-like scarves all the girls are wearing- let them wear gloves!

Certainly, they'll cost a good third of your month's pay, but unlike cheap T-shirts and 2008 tunics, these little bunnies will last you your whole life. At present, I am particularly desirous of Fabre's modern, bright colection of driving gloves. (To drive for, my darling, to drive for!) Although I didn't have the courage to enter the boutique, (I'm on financial lockdown, being unemployed) the glass facade allowed me to hone in on several paris that might fit into a stocking if Santa brings my ship in.

....They also have men's gloves. Too, too stylish. I have a new crush!

Jardin du Palais Royal- SERGE LUTENS

I don't know how it is that I lived in Paris for 5 years without visiting the boutiques of the Jardin du Palais Royal. With brands like Dries Van Noten and Stella McCartney, it's probably a good thing. Last night, I set off a la recherche of a brilliant designer named Serge Lutens. He doesn't make clothing- he makes women mysterious. His breathtaking shop in the Jardin de P.R is dark and romantic, a perfect place to end a melancholic Parisian day. Never girly or ostentatious, his perfumes remind the wearer of the power of her femininity. I've been searching for a new scent since I stopped wearing L'eau d'issey in college, but I just couldn't find something that defined me. (Mind you, I've been looking for 8 years!) Too sugary, too bold, too much patchouli, so many of the parfumes on the market today are overly-sensual or the opposite: capricious. Finally, I have zeroed in on a perfume called "Un Bois Sépia", described in the delightful Serge Lutens catalogue as "Un tweed, un chypre".

Each unique scent is packaged in a stately 75ml glass bottle- the bottles can be engraved or customized in a timeless "Nicolas Cochin" font for a little extra. I've become a little tired with the wastefulness of being trendy, and I'd like to purchase something for myself for the approaching New Year that means something- that serves a deeper purpose. Rereading my own words makes me think I should do something charitable, but we all deserve a little something for making it through 2008. And how can a lass resist the siren's call of seduction?

Une composition olfactive n'est pas une recette: tels les personages d'un roman, les essences sont vivantes. Influencées plutot que placées, en accord, elles reforment en trame une matiere expreimée ou se déclare le parfum. -Serge Lutens