BLACK RIVERS and BIRDHOUSES

WITH A SIDE OF BASEL, RAIN, JEWELRY LAUNCH, AND VINTAGE CAPE TWIRLS

One night while having my beer on the Seine, reading my book, and possibly smoking a skinny cigarette, a Green River Boat Cruise passed me. Yes, you read that correctly. It was named the GREEN River Boat Cruise. I couldn’t help but laugh. The Seine isn’t green! It’s brown. For sure, it’s brown!! The Brown River Boat Cruise would have been more accurate. Mais, that wouldn’t sell any cruises I guess! Doesn’t sound as nice as green. My hometown’s nickname is River Town and even though we’re on the Waccamaw River, it’s more often referred to as Black Water. Because it’s, well, BLACK. You can’t see anything in the water. I learned to ski on this black river. And every time I fell, and the boat sped to make a quick U-turn to come pick me up, I would try to find something to distract my scared mind. As, if I was left marinating in this black water for too long I would start considering everything that could be (and most likely, 100% was) underneath me: alligators, snakes, fish, frogs, turtles, lizards. As frightened as I could get thinking about that  – I still loved it! I can still taste it. That dark, clean, dirt like, taste of the BLACK river, the Waccamaw. Not to be confused with the (evidently) GREEN river, the Seine.

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CHICKENS COME HOME TO ROOST – BIRDS evidently COME TO SHAMPOO

I have jokingly called my home a treehouse since moving in back in September. But this week it was really more of a birdhouse. Twice this week I have been startled by loud noises coming from upstairs. And both times, when I ran to see what had caused the commotion, I found birds of a feather – or rather the feathers of a bird, with their wings in full expansion, knocking off my shampoo from the wooden beam above the shower so that they could perch. Yes, these little pigeons that live on the top of my building have decided to take my open window as an open invitation to come on in.

To set the table for you, I habitually keep my bathroom window open. It’s tiny, it’s high up (no one, and I thought nothing, could possibly get in it), it keeps airflow during the day, and it cools off the apt during the night. It’s always open. And to my knowledge, the birds have never flown in until this week. Both times I have gone upstairs, I have seen my Rahua shampoo bottle lying on the ground. At least these birds know good hair care! And at least I know to close the window up tight when I leave now. And when I leave it open during the night, I pray that they don’t fly in while I’m sleeping.

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CETTE SEMAINE

This past week has been a blur of gray skies, lots of work, lunch outside on the one beautiful sunny (Indian Summer, I do believe is how it was described) day, pager turners (I finished two books and have started two more), an eye feast of artwork and jewelry from the Art Basel Show and the Joar launch, a first time visit to the Grand Palais, several friend dates, and lots of mini beers on the Seine with me, myself, and I. 

I have just finished Empowering Wife and I’m Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself – and I have just started The Forty Day Word Fast again (this is one I like to keep on repeat). I plan to read it in between my breaks from my other latest re-read, French for Dummies. I was reminded to reread this book and reset the way I speak during my sweet Gratitude and Happiness meeting that occurs every Friday at 3:30 pm my time and 9:30 am NYC time. A meeting where we share one gratitude that happened for/to us during the week and then send one person happiness. It is the HIGHLIGHT of my work week, every week! During this particular zoom – one of the ladies said that she was sending happiness to her grandmother’s live-in-help. She said that her grandmother can be a lot to handle, and sassy at times, and that she feels so grateful to have this nurse there taking care of her grandmother without taking anything that her granny says personally. This led to a conversation around words and how they carry such magnitude – good or bad. It reminded me of the word-detox book that I love. I immediately got up and ran to my bookshelf (this book is one that definitely made it over the great Atlantic with me) and showed the group. In one second they each said that they had it ordered on Amazon. Do I sense a bookclub in my work future!!? Eeeep I hope so!

My gratitude this week was for finding friendships here in Paris. Earlier that day I had received a last minute invitation to meet a friend at my favorite Place des Vosges for an outside coffee and visit. Our impromptu rendezvous turned into a 2.5 hour visit. So, my happiness this week went to Cara, the friend who I had my date with that morning. She held a lot of space for me and made me feel so seen and happy. I wanted her to receive the same. So for 10 seconds we all thought about Cara and sent her happiness. It’s such a fun special way of sharing love! As we were wrapping up, everyone on the call sent an extra dose of happiness to… ME. I teared up because it was one of the most precious things I have ever experienced. They all know that I am missing home a lot lately, and that I have to just sit with that feeling since I can’t do anything about it until I hear back from the French Government that my visa is approved. The stress of that, on top of a mostly sunshine-less week, they all said that every time they think of me this weekend / coming week – they would picture me happy, in the sun, with news from the French Government that I am free to come and go as I please. PRECIOUS. I felt the upgrade instantly.

I’ve been told that the COO, who leads these calls every week, has responded “...but we can’t change the time. AC calls in every week and it would be too late for her in Paris” … when someone asked about the possibility of having this meeting later in the day. Swoon!! How considerate! I love this place and these people. So grateful!

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SMALL WORLD — BECAME SMALLER

Last Friday, I had gone over on work, so in a rush, I hurried to change clothes while having two calls with my producer SHEros (Erika and Viv) about negotiations and contracts, I then hopped on James Chocolatine and bike over to see Miranda and Nico for our weekly beers with my favorite French boodle – Delicious bébé Margaux! En route, I decided at the last minute to take the narrow road just before the Odeon (a road rarely ever taken by me). When I did, the biker in front of me came to a complete and sudden stop. He was yielding to a precious blond who was attempting to cross the street as we made the turn. In one quick second there was a ding of a bell beside me and behind him. A bus!!!! I let out a gasp. The bus had also decided to take the narrow turn with us bikers, and therefore, we weren’t all going to fit. We had to make a move. And fast! If not, we were going to be public transit road kill. As the cute lady saw it all happening before her eyes, she stepped back onto the curb so that we could continue on. As I passed I recognized her. And yelled something to the effect of “Oh my god. Mama!!??” That cute blond was Holly from Charleston!! 

Holly had texted me a month ago that she and her husband, Bobby, were coming to Paris. So subconsciously I have had her in the back of my mind (not remembering her actual dates) and then THIS. This was their last night in town before they headed out for a few days and then returned for just a quick evening before their flight home to the US of A. How wild!! We were drawn to one another. I immediately hopped off my bike. We hugged and caught up with one another for a bit. Making an even louder scene with our squeals and laughter than the bus debacle just minutes before. Upgrade to have seen a person from home. And a blond beauty, no less!

By the time I got to what is becoming our watering hole, for our weekly beers, I was late, sweating, and panting. Even though I was out of sorts, my French family here couldn’t have looked happier to see me. At my place was a full pint of my preferred IPA waiting for me. It’s becoming routine and I love it! We celebrated being together – being calm now that Nico and I both have jobs, and being “rich!” I would joke with Nico before either of us got jobs that “we be rich” every time one of us had an interview, had a positive conversation about a job prospect, or about anything that brought us joy. It would make him laugh so hard and it was a fun way of getting our energy up so that we would take the interviews with confidence knowing we’d get the job. Now that we both have one. We say “we be rich” about everything!! J’adore ça. Because we finally are! Rich is having freedom, rich is not being stressed, rich is calmness and structure. So, we be rich! I love being the third wheel to this precious family of mine over here. 

Miranda and I bundled (although, not enough!!) for our 33min FREEZING bike ride over to the 9th for the MOST FUN evening. Cara was there to greet us as we tucked in and got settled at this incredible soiree that my sweet new friend, Leah, had planned. She couldn’t have looked more happy and beautiful. She was radiating with excitement that all of her Paris people were under one roof. So special! 

Too many people to count were there that I… wait for it… wait for it… knew. Ally and Jesse from the UK brought their visiting friends, both Lauras were there (Lash and South American), Kate and her partner (who when I saw him for the first time I thought he was David Beckham’s doppelgänger), Emily and Baxter (her precious pup that goes where she goes), Elizabeth and Vincent (who wild enough knew Cara from grade school and yet is Miranda’s best friend in Paris without knowing Cara - smallest world), Shay and Antoine (and all of Antoine’s fellow Parisian buddies who came late night), and Christina Aguilera. Wait, whaaaaa!!?? No, for real. From the speakers she was belting Genie In a Bottle… Yep! That meant that our sweet smiley Ariel was there too somewhere! Turns out, she was our DJ. And kept a contagious smile on all the Americans who had taken over this tiny bar with her tunes. In her words… I was J’obsessed!

The next day, I got caught in the rain en route to pick up two books that Emily had told me about the night before and wanted me to read. As I pedaled to her apartment, one minute being cool and beautiful and the next being cold and downpour, I tried to change my way of thinking about this unfortunate weather situation I was caught in – and unprepared. So, I decided to see it as a dressed version of a cold plunge / cold shower  – something I do often to change my energy about something (a thought, a feeling, a mood). To yank myself out of the funk and freeze my tush off for a solid minute in COLD &%# water. It works every time. And apparently, so does a freezing wet bike ride. It wasn’t pleasant (neither are the showers) but it certainly made that ride feel more intentional. I arrived at Emily's soaking wet, WIDE AWAKE, and frozen. (The books she lended me I finished in practically one sitting. She was right. I needed them!)

The week was full of daily French Embassy website checks for my visa approval — to no avail — STILL NOTHING, two coffee dates with Cara, long strolls to vintage markets (where I bought a navy blue wool cape, two halfway- framed French news clippings referencing la Fête Nationale du 14 juillet and a 1700 period piece of Versailles, a vintage orange brooch for my cape, a white hand woven linen for my round table that had been screaming for a cover, and a vintage golfer doorstop. I couldn’t resist any of it — especially the doorstop. My father is in the miniature golf business, so this little french golfer had to come to chez moi! ) and so much more…

On Thursday night I was invited to go support and congratulate Paule and the launch of her new Jewlery brand, Joar. It was the MOST gorgeous launch I had truly ever seen. Every detail was considered. The build out was incredible. All black, private, and elegant. Every piece of jewelry was on a plate, or dripping from a champagne flute, or on a dessert platter. It was a feast for our eyes and our palate as hors d'oeuvres were passed, cocktails were shaken, and the people oozed chic. I couldn’t stop taking note of how beautiful everyone’s style was. All different, yet all the same – glamorous. 

I recently told a friend that I once was at a board dinner having a conversation with an Episcopalian priest. I told him that my favorite part about attending service was seeing what the women were wearing. My mother nearly choked when she heard that I had let that slip – but, it’s true! I find them just as inspiring as the message in most cases. So, nights like these are, well… my church.

I got there in (another) full on a downpour. And when we left I noticed that my umbrella had also gone… with someone else. A good umbrella never stays in your possession for long. That's my understanding anyway. Add in a communal stand, a rainy night, sticky hands that are in need of protection from the elements, liquid courage from a cocktail party just attended minutes before – and your umbrella is sure to go missing. In fact, it has happened to me every time.

Back when I worked for Reed Krakoff at Coach, he personally gave me a chocolate brown umbrella that he had designed. It was gorgeous and so special to me since he had given it. One rainy afternoon at Cafeteria, in NYC, it was stolen from the umbrella rack. Next, when I repped MCM, they gave me a black branded umbrella as why Christmas gift – it also was beautiful and chic, and even made its way down to Charleston from NYC with me. Alas, the same story repeated at The Ordinary one downpour of a night. And now, my One Vendôme umbrella is gone (which was, in truth, never supposed to be mine really. I went to an opening party there with my girlfriend a year ago. When we left, it was pouring. The concierge wouldn’t stand for us to get wet – so he gave us two branded umbrellas to stay dry. I never returned them and now, sad to say, have neither in my possession.) – to be replaced by one from Hôtel Costes. We went there after the jewelry party for a drink and on the way out … it was as if a ray of light was shinning on this parapluie propped against a wall without anyone around it. Large, black, and with fancy gold trim. In one single motion this umbrella somehow made its way into my hand. It was given to me. Voila! May the cycle continue.

Art Basel is here in Paris and on Friday night I was invited to go tour it in the Grand Palais. It was spectacular! Since it had been under renovation for the past two years, it was my first time to step foot in this unbelievable place. I was in awe of the building itself for most of our art gallery zig zag. We wandered from aisle to aisle guessing how much each piece was, choosing which were our favorites, where we would put them if we had a zillion dollars and homes in NYC, Paris, and Italy, and laughed as we learned we had different opinions and preference. As we made our way upstairs I came to a complete stop, stretched out my arms, and practically yelled “MAMA!??!” (I’m realizing that this is my go to phrase when in shock at seeing a friend unexpectedly). It was Justine and Will! Will is an artist, so he was showing a piece here. Justine, his girlfriend and my dear friend here in Paris, looked wildly glamorous and proud of him. It was a joy to run into my friends. I think it means that the city is growing smaller for me.

Biking back to chez moi that night, it felt like the city was mine, and mine alone. It wasn’t that late – maybe 11pm and no one was on the street. I was bundled up tight with my great grandmother's fur cuff around my neck for the extra warmth I needed with this rapid temperature drop, and I felt free. How lucky am I to get this kind of experience?! 

My friend Steven texted me a few days ago to check in. After I shared that “I’m good and a little homesick.” He reminded me… “Sorry to hear that, but rest assured that every person at home (I thought he was going to say misses you too. Instead, he said) wishes they were in Paris.”  It was the best reminder! I am living an incredible life over here and given a chance to truly enjoy each moment because each of these moments are … mine. 

Even with birds in my home, this steady stream of gray wet days, and the silent treatment from the French Government … I choose to be in Paris, where there is street art hidden in the sidewalk, swans swimming upstream, and a reason to twirl in my cape at every turn.

Util next week,

xxo ac

PS: I had my nightly sit by the river tonight too and did notice that the river actually does look green at times. A murky green… but a green nonetheless. I stand corrected!