Fine Little Day

As much as I love children and my own lovely daughters, I often find it annoying when people implicate their children in their professional activities. But, I stumbled across this website/blog with wall paper and fabric designed by children (among other things) and it is amazing and simple and just not at all self-serving. Check out Fine Little Day

Fall Finds from France

I have been obsessed with two things all my life. The obvious one, France, has become so integral to my being that I dream in French, I wear French clothes (and have since the age of 17,) I eat French food, drink French wine and I breathe French air everyday. Enough said!

My other secret obsession is dogs. My family is a dog family. My father's family who were from Winchester, Massachusetts raised (for fun) springer spaniels. So on my 10th birthday, I got a springer spaniel, who I aptly named Freckles (by the way, these were the Nixon years and my father is a conservative Republican who still to this day defends Nixon, post mortem.) Anyway, fast forward to my immediate family and our small apartment in Lyon and voilà Clementine and Daisy: Daisy, adorable bichon frisé adopted from a family in Red Hook a week before Christmas 8 years ago, and Clemmie, gorgeous field pointer, who wandered onto our farm as a 6 week old puppy on the hottest August afternoon, 9 years ago.

When I go away to non-dog-friendly places, I am forced to find a happy home for Clementine (Daisy I can usually hide in a bag.) My friend Claire, turned me on to le Domaine des Brevonnes, a 4**** pension for large dogs and a top breeder of Weimaraners. It takes 50 minutes to drive to the little town of Monthieux, in the department de L'ain (a place that for some wacky reason reminds me of the Jersey shore, even though it has no beach,) but it's well worth it.

I had to pick Clem up this morning and you know she had a good weekend cavorting outside with all her handsome Weimaraner pals. She was absolutely giddy.

But the best Fall Find of all was what I found in the front yard. More than the Agnes B tweed jacket, more than the Heschung men's shoes, more than the Loft Design By cashmere sweater, I NEED one of these.

Halliday Chic

I love Halliday's natural style—very Halliday!

Loving the Contrast

We were all so happy to get back to Lyon after the craziness (and expensiveness of Paris.) Really and truly, Paris is too busy for me.

I am essentially half country girl/half city girl, equally comfortable in the two environments. And after such a crazy trip, we all needed to recuperate in the country.

We lounged all weekend and the weather was perfect. We ate every meal outside (except the first night when we had to light a fire to heat up our 200 year old stone house,) toured around a bit, shopped the amazing farmers market in St Symphorien sur Coise, passed by the butcher and boulangerie, made very authentic meals, star gazed, chatted outside in the field which we call our patio, saw our lovely neighbors Zizou and Joseph and went to a yard sale to visit my good friend Isabelle Grange, a fabulous painter.

Such a perfect weekend that Bob wanted to stay, and I was tempted too. But it's back to reality we go. Whoppee!

Oh Mercy Beaucoup

Ok, I am officially in love with this band, Oh Mercy, Alexander Gow and Thomas Savage, the soulful duo from Melboure, Australia. Please come to Lyon! Ecoutez: http://www.myspace.com/ohmercyband

Our Great Parisian Adventure

Barb and Bob are like family to us. We have known them since Halliday was 9 months old, when Barb (just barely one toe into retirement,) answered an ad I had placed in the local "Register Star" for a full-time babysitter. Those were the days of I & Company, my busy graphic design studio and I was whizzing in and out of Manhattan trying to be supermom and have my cake and eat it to. Basic French was just a glimmer in my eye and Barb signed on for the long-haul when she picked up that phone. I thought it was Mary Poppins on the line, she was so nice and lovely and professional that I nearly cried.

So, here we are 15 years later: Barb, (now retired from years of manning the Basic French store in Red Hook, always smiling and making our customers feel special and important—something she is so good at, in all facets of her life) is finally free to travel!!!!

I had always wanted her to see Maison et Objet and so we all made a plan to meet in Paris and spend 2 incredibly busy days doing our version of Paris, before heading back to Lyon. I take some things for granted in France I think—the way things are different from the US, the simplicity of shapes, the smells, the architecture. You know when you live somewhere you half stop seeing things, so having her at the show with me was great and fun and incredibly helpful.

We sped around the 7 immense halls (like at the Jacob Javits Center in New York) taking in all the trends, new colors and products, placing orders with some tried-and-true suppliers and discovering some fantastic new ones too. Great pajamas and boxers, X-mas decorations, lots of dog stuff, children's tees and aprons, organic (bio) toiletries and home cleaning products that smell divine. Can't wait for our holiday shipment to arrive, but let's not think about Christmas just yet. I am savoring the Indian summer that has set in here. Vive le soleil!

To Combi or not to Combi?

I know the summer is over but the weather is still temperate here in Lyon and it seems that les lyonnaises are trying to get the most out of their summer outfits and most notably, their combi-shorts. Ok, I know I am not 5'8", 110 lbs and a size 4, and perhaps if I was I would have a different take on the combi, but truly, it is one fashion style that I just don't understand. This summer it was all the rage: combi-shorts, combi-pants, combi-pedalpushers, in liberty, in silk, belted, cinched, you name it, the combi was there. I guess they just remind me of a play suit, a romper, a jumper, a jump suit and they seem to infantalize the women wearing them. Since I am someone who likes to be taken seriously, probably to a flaw I might add, I could never be caught dead in a combi. Perhaps it's a take on femininity that I just don't appreciate? What do you think?

The Combi by clemendaisy featuring topshop rompers

Blue by Glamorous Floral Playsuit
25 GBP - republic.co.uk
Rompers »

polka dot playsuit
$48 - warehouse.co.uk
Rompers »

Black Denim Playsuit
$70 - topshop.com
TopShop rompers »

Green Ditsy Playsuit
35 GBP - missselfridge.com
Miss Selfridge rompers »

OBEY 63850 BLACK COTTON HIGH AND DRY/STRIPED ROMPER
37 GBP - farfetch.com
Obey rompers »

"Made in France" label for firms

Reprinted courtesy of 'The Connexion'

A PLAN to create a ‘Made in France’ label to emphasize the Frenchness of products has been met with mixed reactions from business people.

The idea, being pushed by former Overseas Minister Yves Jégo, was labeled “xenophobic” by one businessman, while others said it was ecological or good for the image of their goods.

Mr Jégo says France should capitalize more on its national brand image. According to the Nation Brands Index, it is second only to the USA in terms of attractiveness when associated with goods (Germany is third, Britain fourth).

The country should create a recognizable “Made in France” brand, he says. The logo could be accompanied by a star-rating to show if a product was French at all of the stages from concept to sale.

Mr Jégo has asked that a law proposal be drawn up this year.

He also wants France to lobby the EU to make identifying country of origin obligatory for all goods (it is only required for those from outside the union). Garden accessory manufacturer Nigel Gubb of JMH French Solutions in the Vendée said quality counted more than origin.

“You could be encouraged to buy something because it’s French when it is rubbish and not as good as a product from somewhere else.

“It sounds xenophobic and not in the spirit of the EU.” He added: “If something is from the EU all that matters is quality and price.”

Mr Gubb, whose products are all made in France from French materials, said if anything he prefers to emphasize a local angle.

“We sometimes put the Vendée heart on them,” he said. He added: “A star-rating would be impractical for small firms – how would they check?

“Would someone come out to inspect how French my products are?”

Sophie Hicks of La Boucherie à la Ferme in the Corrèze said Frenchness was important to the image of their meat products. “The French are proud of their country and to integrate successfully you have to embrace their ways. The reason we came to France is because we enjoy its Frenchness and it should maintain that.”

She added: “We already put ‘Made in France’ on the products, as we use meat from our own animals. We source some spices abroad, but it’s not a significant percentage. Also, by law, we must use at least 60% of our own produce in everything or we become a commerce instead of a farm.

“We are also going to start selling in a farmers’ market which will involve having special bags and badges showing the produce is ours.

“So, in way the fact that we use local French ingredients is already apparent, but an extra logo could be a good idea. As for a star-rating, it would depend how strict the rules were. Would the ingredients have to be 100% French?”

She added that while French branding would add value for food, because of France’s culinary reputation, “we’re not so impressed with some other things made here, like washing machines.”

Claire Morris of Ty Skol, who makes stained glass items in Brittany, said individual artistry was more importance then Frenchness, however the branding might attract tourists wanting French-made souvenirs. “Buying French also makes good ecological sense in terms of air miles,” she said.

She mainly uses French suppliers. Although some of them source some of their glass abroad, there are some very good French manufacturers, like Saint-Just glass from Saint-Etienne, she said.

Would you trust a Made in France brand? For which products? Do you market your goods as being French? Email contact@connexionfrance.com mentioning “Made in France” in the email title.

La Rentrée (Back to School)

We are suffering from la Rentrée Blues.

This back-to-school schedule of getting up at 6:15 am and racing around, filling out form after form, making appointments, getting insurance, doing homework, going to bed early is always soooooooooooooooo hard to adjust to.

This weekend we are headed to Paris to meet our lovely friends Barb and Bob, who arrive from New York for their first European vacation. Barb (who worked in our Red Hook store for years) and I are going to Maison et Objet, the Paris home fashion show to buy great stuff for Basic French for the holidays. Yay!!!

Les Vestiges de L'été

I can't believe that summer is almost over. Blink of an eye and poof. I am feeling nostalgic for the summer I didn't experience. I almost cried about it this morning driving back from les monts du lyonnais, one more house rental complete, more dirty laundry to wash...I am regretting the ears of corn, fresh tomatoes and soft shells that I did not eat at the Jersey shore. This is the first summer of my life that I was not at least in the US for a few weeks. It feels weird.

But what I did do here in France was amazing. Early summer days in les monts du lyonnais (my house was rented out a lot but I still managed to squeeze in a few days,) fun but brief road trip with Ka to Le Tarn et Garonne, fabulous Vampire Weekend concert at beautiful Fourviere, my birthday celebration at le Bistrot du Boulevard and two weekends in Paris.

The funnest thing about this summer though was the flea markets and the daily search for new products—my passion. Every weekend there was a local vide grenier or brocante within driving distance and I did my share of scouting and buying for Basic French (haha.)

The vestiges of this summer will not be memories of Jersey Shore meals, the sound of sea gulls or a good tan (I am so pale that I am going to get some of that progressive tanning cream, here in mid-August.) The vestiges of this summer will be delicately painted virgin relics, lots of dog walking, funky 50s plaid tablecloths, late-night meals in les bouchons lyonnais, never-used vintage linen dishtowels, a pyrogene (porcelain bistrot matchstriker,) getting to know Ka (who I have worked with for 8 years but only seen twice,) retro teapots and pitchers, wildly colorful foutas, espadrilles and market baskets from the Pyrenées and a new appreciation for what I have experienced and evidently taken for granted all my life...Long Beach Island, New Jersey.

I Love My Town

One hot summer day, I thought about this. Aside from Manhattan, I have never felt as passionate about a city as I do about Lyon. For me, it is a perfect city—not too big, not too much traffic, profound culture and history, ethnic diversity, an easy metro and fab urban bike system, magnificent architecture, cute guys, easy access to the south of France, the Rhone wine country, skiing in the Alpes and Paris by high speed train. But what I love most about Lyon is the near perfect (pour moi au moins) urban quality of life.

It's such big love between me and Lyon that I had to design a t-shirt for Basic French. Dan Baxter, my good friend and the most talented illustrator and animal portrait artist I know, is pictured here sporting his. Go Dan!!!

Crushing on your home town and need to wear a Basic French J'aime ma ville t-shirt?

Great Quote

"I don't know what I'm capable of doing, but, by God, I have genius--I know too well to blush behind it." --Thomas Wolfe

Justice Dancing in Times Square

Camp Simcha is a camp for kids with childhood illnesses and my friend Jayne's son, an amazing boy (the trooper of all troopers) was part of this fabulous celebration in the middle of Times Square—counselors and campers celebrating life and having a blast! Justice is the short one in the middle. Check out Chai Lifeline, the incredible non-profit organization behind this life-affirming event on Facebook, whose mission is to "bring joy to seriously ill children and hope to their families."

Promenade in Time

We left our country house after a few quiet days. About half a mile down the one-lane road, Halliday rolled down the window after we'd passed a local farmer and took this shot. Les monts du lyonnais is so unspoiled and beautiful, the farmers so rugged and hard-working. France has somehow managed in certain parts to be frozen in time. And that's why I live here.

Jeune Fille Chic

Just like in the US, French teenage girls are constantly under intense fashion pressure. My girls know far more about brand names and chic stores that I ever did at their age. However, I have been incredibly opinionated about clothes all my life and drove my mother and sister (who were not shoppers or fashion victims) absolutely mad with my peripatetic searches for the perfect back-to-school shoes, the ones I had pictured in my head but never actually seen—yet. I always had my own distinct style and from the age of five, I slept with my favorite new clothes I loved them so much.

I am counting my blessings that my two resident teens are not among the EMO-dressing, body-piercing, tatoo-sporting crowd here in Lyon. They are plutôt BCBG {bon chic bon genre} or preppy with class. Thank God. And this season, BCBG = the classic marinière or sailor shirt from Brittany. I chased Abigail around our new and empty apartment in her summer Bensimons and marinière dress {from guess where,} hoping to capture the essence of jeune lyonnaise style. Et voila!

Where I hang out (when I hang out in the day time, which is rare)

Family Ties

So Very British!

Average Pierre?

I keep reading all this things on the internet and in American magazines about how the French are so chic and they all dress well and they all have great manners and they're all this and ALL THAT. Now that I lived here for two years, I have had to completely unpack the closet of myths I had amassed over the years, despite all my visits here. So, I need to get a few things straight. The French are many things. Some French people are chic, some are well-dressed and a few have great manners.

I went to a shareholders' party for a local bank with my friend Ogbia, and I was struck by how average everyone was. I know, I know, I sound like a huge snob, but I really was. And in light of the fact that I have been reading all these perpetuated myths about the French, I thought I would share this video.

So let's get this straight. Not all American men wear white tube socks and running shoes. And the French guy in the pink sweater sure can do "the medicine."

Good Weekend!

We tend to forget that
happiness doesn't come
as a result of getting
something we don't have,
but rather of recognizing
and appreciating
what we do have.

FREDRICK KOEING

The Dog Days of Winter

I never knew what the dog days of summer were, but surely these must be the dog days of winter!

What the heck!

Les Puces du Canal : Gloria Loves to Dance

One beautiful, unseasonably warm winter day, an american, a french/german, an italian, a greek and a serbian/greek ex-Parisian go to the marché aux puces in Lyon. That's me and my friends.

The flea market is not that inspiring. I find a funky pitcher, 2 benetiers and a faience madonna to add to my collection. I am really looking for the perfect commode, a dresser that will fit in the bedroom. I have been looking for 2 years. The sun peeks in and out as we walk around. It feels like almost Spring and voices are high with excitement. We all want to break out.

I keep wondering why I have never managed to live in a warm place. I wonder why I never moved to Marseille or Nice. Lyon, an improvement over New York by far, is still too cold for me. And yet here, this prematurely warm sunny day, I feel intoxicated. We sit in a local café as everyone begins to pack up their wares. We eat poorly, drink a few glasses of unmemorable wine, laugh, tease. Music seeps out of a café nearby and we are like snakes in the sun—immobile, lazy, slow, content. I feel drugged and so good, soaking up those rays, forgetting the long list of tasks I have lined up the week ahead of me. We follow the music and end up inside the local café/bar where the antique dealers wrap up their day. They all seem to know each other. It's a mixed crowd but we still stand out a bit, not locals. The music plays and we can't help but be drawn into the swirl. It's a springtime drug. I'm addicted.

The Language of Love...Basic French

BY DEBORAH P. SOBELOFF

That was the year Josh and I decided to argue
in French, a language we didn't know
enough of to lie in. We only knew the present
tense, the infinitives. There was no
conjugation--we or I. No decisions
to be made--her or me.
I could say table, bed,
but not ask what happened--a relief
not to know or to know my fears
correct. We loved the conversation
that could go on and on with two words:
Ça va. He sang the Marseillaise to me in bed.
It gave me goose bumps.
Our meals became prayers
hastened with bon apetit, the fear of bon voyage.
In English, I could make the whole
room spin around one word, make an hour
of tears over the inflection of one syllable. In French,
it was obvious we were ridiculous,
fallible, together. We were back in school.

Copyright © 2009

Port-au-Prince

I would want to adopt all these adorable Haitian orphans

Elsève Volume Non-Stop

Halliday and I have been getting a lot of mileage (giggles) out of a new shampoo that we are carrying at basicfrench. Lauded for it's long-lasting volume enhancing potential by a myriad of well-groomed lyonnais, Elsève Volume Non-Stop, is truly our new shampoo of choice.

The Halliday Girls!

I just found this picture of two of the four amazing Halliday sisters, my great aunt Bobbie (Elisabeth Halliday Van Nortwick) and my grandmother Mimi, (Margaret Halliday Neiley) aka Mother Nature.

Bobbie and Mimi were my role models. They were the most elegant and hilarious women I have ever known. Always dressed to the nines, relaxed in real Abercrombie and Fitch, quintessential ladies, polished at Miss Porters, raised between New York , Yonkers (the then countryside of Manhattan) and Hyannis Port, they were the funniest pair ever.

Fashion Week : Paris Chic ?

Eric Rohmer, Claire's Knee and other stuff

Eric Rohmer in 1985. Photograph: EPA

I think that when I discovered Eric Rohmer in my teens, I felt I had truly arrived. My French was not too great at that time, but I fell deeply in love with the mood of his movies, the light, the scenery and the realistic promise of unrequited, youthful love.

Anyway, Eric Rohmer died today and here is a bit of history about him from "The Guardian" and the "Associated Press" in case you want to become a posthumous fan. Eric Rohmer marathon weekend, ne c'est pas?



And then there's Claire's knee (le Genou de Claire) of course...

The Party & French Boys Love Fashion Too!

Living with two teenage girls, I am blessed each week with full-on fashion exposure, beginning Monday mornings at 6:15 when my 15 year old gets up for school. The fun really kicks in on weekends with multiple wardrobe changes, interspersed with moments of great despair, tears, more wardrobe changes, last minute loads of laundry and mascara touch ups. The fashion apex is Sunday evening at about 10:23 when Monday morning's outfit is oh so carefully selected and strewn on the settee in our hallway.

I thought this was a teenage girl thing, until I went to a birthday party for our fabulous friend Odyssey, fondly known (to me at least) as "the Greek." Boys, boys, boys, just love their clothes and shoes and even have a favorite shampoo, which gives them that lift, that bounce, that brushed forward sloppy yet trimmed hair look that the French boys are sporting these days.