Grès Anatomy

I had been meaning to go to the Bourdelle Museum to see the Madame Grès exhibit for a while, but when I stopped seeing the posters around Paris I figured the exhibit must have ended. WRONG. I saw the posters again this week at St. Germain after hanging out with a friend at Les Deux Magots (je sais, so tourist-y). Now I know for sure the exhibit will be around for a few more weeks, until August 28 exactly - our wedding anniversary.

So, now, this is the part where I explain why I want to go. Everyone knows I'm in no way a fashionista, but while I was researching the gown I wanted to wear to my wedding I came across Madame Grès.

From Paris.fr.

 
I love her signature Graecian silhouette. She makes women look like goddesses taking some time off from their altars; flowing and graceful, like living sculptures. It came as no surprise then, to learn that she was also a sculptress.

I mean, how lovely is this? From Trendland.net.

It may seem like a stretch to combine the hellenistic spirit of her aesthetic into the Filipiñana gown we all know, but I found a designer who was willing to work with my unorthodox idea. Hence, my dual- function detachable dress.

With my mom, minutes before the wedding.

J'adore the draping around the waist :) If only it wasn't so long!

Too bad I couldn't fit into it anymore, heheh.

Fudams*

While cleaning my bedside table, I found a dot matrix printout of a recipe my mom gave me before I left. I made a few adjustments according to my memory of how we used to do it at home.

Roasted chicken a la Stripeysocks.

The condiments were something I picked up from my brother. One thing I learned by doing this in Paris is that lemons are no substitute for good ol' calamansi.

I've also risen up to the challenge of my beaux-frères to make a 6-layered gateau Petit Lu, a cake that has as any versions as there are families in France. They usually ask for it on their birthdays, but my belle-mère has a hard time putting the soft stacks of cookies on top of each other so she either flat out refuses them or makes a 4-layer cake instead of a 6-layer one. So belle-mère gave me the family recipe on our last visit and wished me "bonne chance." Sadly, I think I rushed the process because my butter cream was too "liquide" but it wasn't sooo bad.

Candy, chocolate, coffee and butter all in one bite!

 Speaking of food -

I've been starved for books these past months. H bought me the unofficial guide to France, "Sixty Million Frenchmen Can't Be Wrong" by Nadeau and Barlow back in September saying I have to study what it's like to be French now. It was a little outdated, but informative: it was fodder for a number of conversations with the "natives" months after.

The Diana Wynne Jones book I ordered in December through FNAC (along with a Monty Python box set) encountered some delays because it was shipped from the UK, but it got here eventually...  in January. Winning a bet against H bagged me an H.P. Lovecraft compilation and Susanna Clarke's "Ladies of Grace Adieu" (minus 2 euros for a little scratch on the cover) from Galignani - all three I finished by February.

Being a book slut, I'm not happy unless I'm reading two or three books at the same time. My friend, Agay, sent me "Almost French" by Sarah Turnbull; which I'm in the middle of at the moment. I'm finishing Kerouac's "On The Road" and Michael Chabon's "Gentlemen of the Road" but I'm starting to get anxious about my next fix... Although, the books I should be opening are my French study books (of which I got plenty).

So, I hit upon this genius solution to study French while reading something more entertaining than my drill books: I decided to get "Les recettes amoureuses d'un sorciere" through Amazon. It's a lovely vintage style recipe book adorned by various ephemera. I'm supposed to get it in a week or two, fingers crossed, and while I'm waiting, I also thought I could practice with H's romans (novels) lying around the house.

Great excuse to start reading Murakami. But it's bound to be a hard read so I expect to quit after an hour... maybe less. When I told H, he shoved a copy of Daniel Pennac's "Au bonheur des ogres" in my hands. The cover is cute, reminds me of Quentin Blake. Imma give myself one year to finish it.

*Fudam - Pinoy gay lingo for food.

The Wedding Video

This is just a repost, just thought I should add it in here now that I know how to embed :)

To our loved ones - especially those unable to go to the wedding, here's what went down:

Our Modern Luuuurve from Dumonster on Vimeo.

This video was supposed to be screened for the first time at our wedding last year but I didn't have the chance to finish it; were so busy creating new memories that eventually made it to the final edit.

This is a private video, meant for close friends only. No copyright infringement was intended in the use of Bloc Party's "This Modern Love" - it's just that the song fits our story so perfectly.

And to my editor friends - I have primitive editing software (which required guesswork pa!), so please go easy on me! I used to edit better than this :D

I "Velib" I can Fly

I've mentioned a few times before that I've been trying to learn to bike since April by borrowing bikes from friends. My problem with those bikes were the seats, which were too far from the ground so I had to tiptoe before I could pedal off; but no, I couldn't pedal off. Yesterday, we tried the public bike system Velib' (finally!) which are bulky and a little heavy but the seats could be adjusted low enough for my groin.

Velib' is a combination of vélo (bike) and liberté (freedom). It gives cyclists the liberty to take a bike from one station in Paris and deposit it in another part of the city at the super low price of 1 euro per hour, 5 euros for a week or free for 30 minutes (conditions apply).

I took the bike for a spin on the frenetic streets outside our apartment - the street poles, trees and pedestrians providing an organic obstacle course. I wobbled about for the first 30 minutes, all the while with H behind me shouting like the drill sergeant in Full Metal Jacket -- hand to god! -- I shushed him a couple of times until, ultimately, I could ride the bike without him holding me up. There are no words to describe the giddy feeling of freedom from those first few seconds after cracking the skill that had eluded me for years. It was like discovering the atom, cosmic radiation, fire, King Tut's tomb! I hardly breathed.

My biggest enemy were the parking poles which seemed to magnetically attract the Velib, but I was occasionally able to break just in time thanks to my life-saving and completely rational fear of falling and cracking my skull. I hit a wall, a parked car, some poles and a pile of garbage harmlessly after. However, I got a little ahead of myself one time, proverbial Icarus on a bike, thinking I was competent enough to make a turn around a tree.

From flickr

Now, if you've seen pictures of the streets here, you might have noticed the metal framework that surrounds the trees. It was one of these grills that ensnared the front wheel of the Velib, making me fly off the bike in a move that ended with a powerslide minus the air guitar. I checked my bruised and bloodied knees then dusted myself off and got on the bike again, with drill master sergeant H all up in my bizness for not using the breaks - as if I did it on purpose. Hmpf! A few minutes later, my leg got trapped between the bike and a pole, H chewed me out for not being careful, and some pedestrians ran away when they saw me coming - except for one elderly gentleman who helped me avoid a busking accordionist.

from kweeper

I was hoping I could learn how to bike accident free, but maybe it was coming to me. There are experiences you try to put off for fear that you will get hurt, but delaying sometimes only makes you fear it more without necessarily helping you master what's to happen... and most of the time you end up being hurt just the same.

I'm looking at you, Mr. Band-Aid Procrastinator.