French Pleasures: A Bit of Anne in Paris
Kate Moss for YSL Paries
Updated July 14, 2010: Anne just made major comments on tonight’s NYT Style article on French women and aging. Her comment and our new articles on French women are posted here: Aging French and American Women Aren’t in the Same Life Game.
##### Written Nov. 2009
It’s interesting how even the most ‘exclusive’ brands are reaching out to customers online. I came to the Experience Parisienne contest online. The voting that will send one lucky woman to Paris in 2010 closes on Nov. 30, 2009.
The thrust of the campaign is highlighting the mindset of being in Paris, wandering the streets and inhaling the sensual beauty.
The Bristol Hotel in Paris My career at Victoria’s Secret took me to Paris well over 200 times, and my heart is always fluttering when the car first sweeps into the city streets.
I have my own special Paris story — actually I have many, but this one is rather remarkable in its serendipity.
Hotel Montalembert ParisYears ago I found myself in Paris for Salon de Lingerie, at the end of January. I chose to stay in a newly renovated hotel not far from The Bristol, one of my usual haunts. I was either there or Hotel Montalembert on the Left Bank.
There’s nothing more dreamy than going for a late-night walk in Paris, with friends, a lover or even alone.
Paris Wanderings
In truth, I’ve wandered the world alone … often with a driver following me, because I’m not a limo person and prefer to slip into dark alleyways, where I always make the most pround little discoveries in life.
Catherine Deneuve Paris Paris
This night I returned from dinner, warmed with champagne and the glow of Paris on my cheeks, and decided to venture back out into the frosty air. Wandering the streets of the eighth arrondisement near the grand shops of St. Honore — including YSL — I noticed a tiny street, rue d’Aguesseau.
Paris may be the City of Lights, but by now the city was quite dark, only lit by street lamps. The Christmas magic was gone from Paris, leaving me only the memories of a winter night, 4am Parisian carousel ride.
The shop windows were dark, and I was cold, determined now to return to my hotel.
Looking down this tiny street, I saw a blaze of white lights on a building. Unable to resist the temptation of discovery, I walked quickly, shivering in the cold, to view the celestial light show that had landed in the middle of nowhere.
White Light Seduction
Anne’s Paris apartmentThe scene of my delight was actually an apartment building, fully lit in the most extravagant display of bad environmentalism imaginable. It stood as a gorgeous little beacon on a nondescript Parisian rue.
I stood looking at the building, wondering about the people who lived there, becoming a voyeur into the lives of strangers behind the thick concrete walls.
After all, I was in Paris!
Paris Bound
Fast forward with me now about six weeks. I’m in my office at Victoria’s Secret in a panic, because I’ve leaving for Paris with no hotel room and none to be had.
Giving up on our corporate travel service, I called American Express.
I was in deep trouble. My only option was a suite at the Ritz, and while I had a liberal expense account, our accounting department would not be amused with my last minute reservation.
“Wait a moment, Ms. Enke,” the AMX woman said. “I see here a residence hotel that is highly rated with five stars. It’s not inexpensive but it’s better than the Ritz at $1000 a night. You have a full kitchen and library, one bedroom and also a dining room. Limited room service.”
Home Again
Book it. Once again, I had ‘lucked out’ under pressure.
A few days later I was Paris bound on a flight I knew well. My regular driver picked me up at Charles de Gaulle and I explained that we were going to a new hotel. That cold wintery, white-light night was nowhere in my memory but a six-week old flash of voyeuristic imagining. How would I think we were now headed for the small Parisian street from just six weeks earlier: rue d’Aguesseau.
Kate Moss in Parisienne commercial for YSL
Half asleep without my French Roast and an overnight flight from New York, I drifted in and out of sleep riding into Paris. My driver had his little map, perhaps even called his office. Neither of us had any idea where we were going, until he turned down this small street, not far from the Bristol.
“For heavens sake,” I cried out. “This is my little jewel box.”
Rue d’Aguesseau in ParisIt was my sparkling light show, and until it closed for renovation years later, I never stayed in another hotel in Paris.
Introducing myself to the small staff from all over the world — India, North Africa, and probably Senegal, too — ah I remember the German man — I said “Please, please don’t speak English to me. Let me struggle with French.”
This is how I came to have a part-time apartment in Paris.
My olive oil and balsamic vinegar was kept in a locker downstairs, and I cooked up Love Potions in the kitchen, hosting parties for colleagues and friends.
Florist on Rue St. Honoré. Paris via Flickr’s kitschcafeWriting these words now, I remember the chocolate croissants which I ate very sparingly. I see the fresh flowers from my little shop and remember packing my own groceries at the market on Rue de Surène.
When I first began writing Anne of Carversville, I rediscovered my long-lost restaurant in the medina of Marrakesh and also ‘met’ Maryam of Morocco. (See Marrakesh | Deeply Sensual Dining Pleasure at Le Yacout.)
Just now, I rediscovered this apartment building, coverted to private residences but with at least one for rent in Paris. It’s amazing how the Internet allows you to piece together the elements of your life.
Returning to the YSL Parisienne website,
I remember our second Victoria’s Secret fashion show at the Plaza Hotel, where we played Catherine Deneuve’s “Paris Paris”. And I met Deneuve in Milan.
What a life ride I’ve had, and it’s far from over. I am so blessed. Anne
Note: this YSL Parisienne commercial is scorching!
Kate Moss Parisienne by Yves Saint Laurent
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