Haute couture of food.

I've always liked the bold pink and black branding of Fauchon. It's a colour combination that usually reminds me of lingerie or boudoir styling, but some how it works really well for this food emporium.

The luxury gourmet store has been open since 1886 and serves up a variety of perfectly arranged delicacies. We had a coffee at their rose-tinted café. It's on Place Madeleine in the 8th. The interior of the café is designed by Christian Biecher. It's worth checking out his site - the interior images are far more beautiful than anything I could snap. My photography style in these places is subtle (in a 'lets try not get chucked out' kind of style).

Any colleagues reading this? You may count yourself lucky, you have chocolates from Fauchon to look forward to.

French letters.

No, not condoms. Type. 

I keep seeing reclaimed typography emblazoned on walls in restaurants, for sale in decor shops and at the market - and even in BHV. Seems to be another trend that's staying firmly put. No surprise that this is one I really like.

Lunch at Chartier.

C&J introduced us to Chartier five years ago when we visited them in Paris. We had a great lunch at this Parisian institution at that time and so decided a return visit was in order. The restaurant has been around since 1896 - it's even classified as a historical monument. Frequented by locals (but now in all the guidebooks I'm told) it's said to have fed over 5o billion bellies since it's opening! Thinking back, I could recall the decor of the vast dining hall and the brusqueness of the waiters. But not what I ordered. I wasn't sure if that meant that the food was forgettable or that we'd all had too much wine to drink at the time.

It might have been the former. Our lunch experience this time around was great for atmosphere and charm - perhaps only added to by the fact that we were seated practically on the laps of the couple next to us - and 'okay' from the food point of view. It's billed as classic, 'home style' French fare and is a welcome change from the fussy morsel posturing on a plate that looks as if some chef has had his hands all over it for far too long. But perhaps these particular plates could have done with a little more attention. Regardless, the wine was great and the bustling ambience ensured it was worth the visit. Especially as it's inexpensive. 

I'm just not as much of a fan as the man who has been eating there every lunch for the last 20 years! 

Cabinet of curiosity.

I think it was in Standard 6 biology class that we were required to do an entomology project. This entailed seeking out (chasing dementedly after) specific specimens, effectively euthanising them and mounting them on board complete with latin names smartly lettered. I'm sure you can imagine the squeals of disgust that resulted from the pitting of teenage girls against various insect life. But we became ruthless in the pursuit of good grades and driving that pin through the abdomen of whatever poor butterfly or beetle we had caught was ultimately done with glee.

Until one horrid experience that is etched in my brain. I awoke in my dormitory cubicle (yes, a product of boarding school) early one morning to the sound of desperate scratching. Lying in the pitch dark, I was terrified. Eventually forced to switch on the lights and investigate, I discovered one large butterfly that had 'woken' and was unsuccessfully attempting to fly away. Skewered through it's middle it wasn't going anywhere but the scratching sound had been the result of the wings scraping against it's polystyrene bed. Appalled, I quickly grabbed the bottle of acetone and doused the poor thing - effectively ruining my project (have you seen what nail polish remover does when it comes into contact with polystyrene?) but fortunately ending the life of the damned thing by drowning rather than anesthesia. 

Why the protracted childhood recollection? Well, I'm not a fan of insects. Not in a oooh-scream-I'm-such-a-girl way, just in the sense that I'd rather we didn't share the same space if at all possible. And I'm not much a fan of animals, either ("cold-hearted-bitch" I can hear you saying, so I won't even attempt to explain myself).

Perhaps it was then surprising that after reading about Deyrolle, the absolute 'cabinet of curiosity' in Paris, I was keen to visit. Or perhaps unsurprising as being specialists in the collection of insects, shells and animals of all kinds since 1831 they are a darn sight better at the art of death than I had been.

Above images Deyrolle.

I think the shop on Rue de Bac has been housed in the same building since 1888. It has a rich history in not only entomology and zoology but botany, geography and human anatomy. It was visited by artists the likes of Salvador Dali and André Breton in their time. The unassuming first floor houses books, fragrances, garden tools and garden accessories of beautiful quality. It's all natural fibres and stainless steel flower pots costing €100. Aptly named Le Prince Jardiner.

Above images Deyrolle.

It's on the second floor that the taxidermy is revealed. From a polar bear to a mole - they've a collection enviable only by Noah. And then there are the insects. Quite an astonishing collection. But most of all I liked the posters. The House of Deyrolle was the first supplier of 'teaching boards' to the State Education Department since 1866 and even today supports teaching and sustainable development. Their posters are a collection of beautifully illustrated vintage teaching aides from botanicals to anatomy.

Above images Laurent Bochet.

One of the most interesting books on display was "1000ºC". It's the photographic story of a fire that devastated Deyrolle in February 2008. Representing the fragile state of nature, photographs of the charred remains of taxidermy animals as well as sculpture, drawings, paintings and other works of art done by over 50 artisits were auctioned by Christie's to help raise funds for the restoration. And the restoration was painstaking taking almost two years and paying close attention to refit the space as it was previously.

Above images Objet de Curiosité. One of the decor houses I spotted at Masion&Objet.

The art of taxidermy and entymology seem to have shed their grisly reputation (for a while wasn't it just serial killers in movies that collected insects?) Nowadays I can't stop seeing it's use in interior decor. I particularly noted a lot of it at Masion&Objet yesterday. A well placed skull or box-framed collection of some rare beetle from Thailand with a long latin name seems to hint at owners with a natural curiosity and a taste for the exotic and unusual. A display of a fossilised giant Clam must hint that you're an explorer - even if it was chosen out of a catalog and delivered by UPS?

It's not that I'm not a fan of this aesthetic, it's just that it can seem a little 'faked'. I'm not advising that you shoot the deer that you then get stuffed and mount on the wall, I'm just suggesting that unless you actually bought that beetle collection in Thailand or have the story to tell of how you unearthed that gem of a starfish specimen at an antiques market then perhaps you're slightly less qualified to display it. I admire real collectors, and feel privileged to be introduced to their collections as they are usually accompanied by rich stories.

But that's just me, what do I know? I can't even kill a butterfly successfully.

Bad to the bone.

You'll have to forgive the fact that the follow up post to my catacombs experience is about skulls. It's just one trend that doesn't seem to be going anywhere. And it's not just adorning bad-ass biker t-shirts. Skulls appear on everything - even babies booties and scatter cushions. It's certainly not a new emblem to embellish fashion and home decor items, but it seems to be everywhere I look in Paris.

I actually quite like the application of this icon when it's used in an unexpected way - as a minute pattern on a cashmere jersey, for example. Something that appears at first glance like a ditsy floral print is revealed as being more interesting or subversive. But most times I think it's just become a meaningless symbol. I certainly don't believe most people who sport clothing with skull decoration think about death at all. I guess we have the Damien Hirst's of this world to thank for the prolific entry of this icon into recent pop culture - but I think the really interesting representations are those that stem from solid cultural roots - like the Mexican 'day of the dead' iconography. 

What do you think of this trend? Macabre, meaningless or marvelous?

From one extreme to the other.

One of our recent adventures was to explore Paris from it's high(est) point - The Eiffel tower, to the lowest possible depths - the tunnels beneath the city. The catacombs. 

I wasn't so sure about going up the Eiffel tower. Although it's the absolute icon of the city it seemed such a touristy thing to do. And in August it's not great to be a tourist in Paris - there are just so damn many of them. Even the tourists will tell you that the only thing wrong with Paris is - the tourists! The long queue we had to stand in was enough to swear me off any tourist type activities for about a week following. But the view over the city when we finally reached the top was worth it. The world reduced to ant-like miniatures.

Visiting the catacombs was a crazy experience - after descending a 19 metre stone spiral staircase you find yourself in a dank and musty tunnel. After passing through a few stone walled tunnels and coming across some sculpture you are greeted with the inscription "Arrête, c'est ici l'empire de la Mort" - "Stop, this is the empire of Death''. Delightful. From here on stacks of skulls and bones line the passageways - some in quite decorative formations. It's a bizarre attraction for a city. A bit macabre but still fascinating and I'm sure its curiosity that drives most visits. Certainly true in my case.

The tunnels open to the public represent only a small corner of the underground tunnel system of Paris. There are over 300km of underground passages underneath the city. Some of it is explored nowdays by cataphiles (tunnel enthusiasts) although it's illegal to do so. I've even read of an underground cinema and raves taking place in the tunnels. 

Not the kind of place I'd like to party. Actually given the choice of 'high' or 'low' I think I'd select the former!