Sur La Seine

IMG_4039.krIMG_4056.krParis CollageIMG_4082.krIMG_4046.krIMG_4071IMG_4064.krOne of my many walks in Paris, along the Seine and into the Jardin des Tuileries. I won’t go into the chorus of sighs and ooh and ahhs that follows Paris because personally I’ve heard enough. Sometimes talking about something ruins it. But Paris can’t be ruined. The capricious weather and the crowds of tourists (let’s be fair here, I am one) make me want to tap my little red heels and return to Southern suburbia, but then the sun comes out or even better, goes to bed so beautifully, I grudgingly forget everything and run off to explore and take pictures.

I personally love the Seine, especially the Latin Quarter because ahem, I’m a student and ahem, I’m all about ancient books and that over-sized sweaters and my glasses that I put on when I need to see/do not want to be hit on. Soon I shall poke my nose into the Marais and explore Montmartre some more but for now my favorite area is near the Odéon theater, so many cute little shops and the best creperie and the Seine with the vintage wares in green boxes (as seen in Midnight in Paris). I could totally live there and eat my lunch at the tip of Ile-de-la-Cité with all the other beautiful French people. Also, I refuse to buy American things. I do not walk into stores I can visit at home and the only reason I get Astérix comics (to pass on to my children, of course) is because it’s way cheaper in France. This snobbishness though.


Casanova : A Piece of Paris

IMG_4093.krA little bit of Paris, my way of not posting all the other photos I’ve taken. I never wear perfume. The ones that are available to me in Sephoras and other department stores always seem to be too strong, too heady, too much like an old lady who wears lipstick outside the lines (which I aspire to be, but not for now). So I just take to showering often and using delicious-smelling shampoo, which has led a friend to dub me the “Hypoallergenic Woman.”

But Paris has made me realize what a difference good perfume makes. In the metro, outside with the foules of tourists, I need my own cloud of paradise. But I don’t want just ANY cloud of paradise. I want a Parisian cloud that I cannot find in the States. Hence, Histoires de Parfums 1725. It’s a faint masculine scent inspired by Casanova, light and versatile, like the man himself I suppose. I searched high and low for a vendor and finally stumbled upon Jovoy, a most brilliant shop that seemed to answer all my prayers of bohemian perfume. Dark red and spacious, right off the super touristy rue de Rivoli, with shining glass and ribbons and the smell of Made in France, my friends and I spent ages walking around sniffing everything. There’s even a perfume created specifically for Napoleon and Josephine by Rancé, one of the oldest perfumers.

Anyway, I highly recommend it to anyone wandering around the Tuileries and needing to escape into something dark and cool and seductive-smelling. The owner was also one of the kindest people in the world, he even put up with my French and gave us all free samples.

Stealing the September Sun

IMG_3717.2.krIMG_3785.krnellysun CollageIMG_3781.2IMG_3782.2IMG_3721.krIMG_3773.2.krIMG_3762.krIMG_3788.2.krIMG_3789.krnellytea CollageIMG_3805.krWrapping up my summer in Nashville with an old guest star – Nelly – whom you’ve seen here. She’s so gorgeous, absolutely no posing needed – she and I just kind of naturally captured her in these moments of strength and confidence. And because I had missed my rumpled self on camera, there’s quite a bit of sun kissed me. I love shooting at sunset but the light can get tricky, especially since I have a little orange sun-stache in one of the above. 

This outing was a bit home-y and we settled into our lattes (in the evening too, the Italians would be horrified) in a neighborhood cafe. Also, elation, I finally found the perfect white button-down. If I were to regale you with my 2 year long search for the perfect white shirt and the struggle of having broad shoulders, long arms and a short torso, you would rightly think I was crazy and OCD.

Enjoy the September sunshine!

Dreams of the Sea: Binz

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Binz (113)To be completely honest, I hate to swim. I maybe dip in the water twice a summer, but I love the nautical aesthetic, the very atmosphere of the seaside. Stripes, anchors, seaside walks, everything short of going into the water. So I absolutely adored Ostseebad Binz when we went there with my aunt and uncle and the very star of most of my photoshoots that summer, my cousin Frederik. 

Binz was part of Eastern Germany and therefore escaped the modernization of its Western brethren. The whitewashed, Victorian-esque streets have remained as have the amber coasts (I picked up a few of the gems one day), but more on that later, if I get to it! For now, it’ll be more of this darling wonderland, a little area  to the North, formerly a maritime seat of the Slavic peoples. The statue pictured above marked the entrance to their fort, which unfortunately was being excavated by archaeologists. (Also a former dream job of mine)

I also love lighthouses which is so painfully cliche I might as well get it over with. There were two, the taller one was 100 years old and the shorter one was 200+, the oldest lighthouse on the Baltic. Got to climb up and all, it was so claustrophobic until you reached the top.

Also more on Sanddorn, a berry not only popular in Binz but also in Russia. Felt like I was home, surrounded by all the things you can make out of the berries – candies, tea (pictured above), shampoo, liquor. I think I tried them all, even Weleda’s sanddorn body lotion (smells like sun and my new favorite resort).

Enjoy pictures of sun and flowers and sea, because I did. Plus it was cold enough to justify me wrapping up (my favorite thing to do).