Playa de Soledad

Summer wraps up for Autumn

Days are snapping shut

Into those starless nights

And I miss you.

'Path to the Beach - Dolphin Sands, Australia', photo by Jess Gibbs, via Artflakes

Life has taken a turn

A forced leisurely stroll

In my heart there's a hurt

And I speed down the coastline

Speeding thoughts through my mind

Skid round the bend

Screech to an end.

I have no sight, no sound

No smell, no touch

Other than words

To communicate to you

The written word, my frustration

My hapless devotion

A needy string of letters

Sitting pretty on a page

Like a pearl necklace

Stretched to snap

And there it snaps...

'Wildflowers on Sand Dunes, Tarkine Coast', by Lonely Planet Images, via Artflakes

I am the bearer of good news

Weaver of illusions

Good fortune stand-up

Ballet dancer of hopes

Actress of your dreams

We are free spirits

In cages that we built

And I drink up to

Your every written word

Like a love potion.

In my deepest darkest hour

I kiss the air I breathe

And your skin I crave

The mirror I graze

I look in your eye

My mind's eye

Your gaze is my daze

And my days are fazed.

Long stretches of desolate beaches

As far as the heart can see

Solitude battered down by the winds

You're my Summer gone

Too soon to the Tropics

And the sunshine of your smile

I miss.

I want to be the Summer keepsake

To your whimsical thought

Your sunny disposition

Here in my heart

You may linger

Till we meet again.

Uncredited source, via Pinterest

And I want you

And I can't have you

My heart is at home

Only when it's with you

There's a will, there's a way

Here's a word, and here's two

So what else can I do

But compose a verse to you?

If you ever shed a tear

While you are reading this

Make sure it's joy

Because in this broken bliss

We are blessed

By togetherness

In our combined loneliness

Bound for better

And the betterest.

© Nathalie A. Hachet (27/09/2012). 

An Acute Case of the Wanderlust (Part 2)

Where do you start? How soon is soon? How long is a piece of string? As I am preparing myself to step out the comfort zone, I have a thousand questions and very few answers. Thankfully friends have been supportive, no matter how vague I still am about it all at this stage. Somewhere in my mind I have started a process and this is a sign of progress and progression, a massive step forward!

'Lake of the Moon, India', photo by Dhurjati Chatterjee, via National Geographic

The process had been there all along but I was caught in such a spin that I could snap none of the interconnected links that made up the chain I was tied to, or else everything would have fallen off the wayside with harsh consequences. Quit the job with no plan B and la vida loca is likely to take a turn for the worse, as you jeopardise the mortgage and everything home-related, the outgoings, the financial responsibilities, the lifestyle, the prized possessions and the peer pressure that we call The Joneses that keep you in check! It's like a castle of cards crashing down.

At the time I could see no leeway. I envied those who had the luxury to afford a sabbatical with on top of it guarantees from their employer to take them back six months down the line. Now there's a thought. I wonder whether one really wants to settle back into the old job once their travel adventure is over. You have moved on but the old job, old place, old coworkers seem to have remained 'stuck in'. Interesting...

'Coyote, Yellowtone National Park', photo by Timothy Brooks, via National Geographic

The decision to 'jack it in' was eventually made for me via redundancy and everything else is history. Now I've come a long way and I am in a different place. For starters I have the confidence, the willpower, the drive to go travel and push into those new horizons. It's basically now or never. Also I am no longer a 'slave to the wage' (to quote that Placebo song) in the same way I was back in Manchester. At least that's one good thing about island life: less needs, less spending. I have become less materialistic too. And last but not least I'm back at living at my parents like some grown-up teenager and can offload some of that financial pressure (thanks mum and dad!).

Another massive step forward for me is that I am letting go of my house in Manchester. A couple of weeks ago I decided to put it on the market. As symbolic and sensible this is, it is also part of the 'moving forward' process. Yippee, I am ready to let go! After hesitating for the best part of two years it has now become crystal clear that I have no intention of moving back to Manchester, the reason being that I have moved on. So why linger in the past when the best things are yet to come!

P.S: Get a taster of the wanderlust with Benny the Irish Polyglot's fabulously inspirational post: '29 life lessons learned in travelling the world for 8 years straight'!

An Acute Case of the Wanderlust (Part 1)

One day I had a revelation, an epiphany. It had taken me years to come to the realisation that no matter what, I was never gonna be that stereotype woman that media and society define as the embodiement of success: a whippersnapper version of The Devil Wears Prada, with a marriage to boot and 2.1 kids in tow, with the glamorous suburban home, the neat lawn and the picket fence. The settled woman with all her needs met. Once upon a time I might have caressed the thought, especially the one about prince charming. Then I decided who was I to fool, apart from my 'well-wishing' parents and some 'well-meaning' friends?

'Whooper Swans, Japan', photo by Stefano Unterthiner, via National Geographic

Personal events gradually took me away from the shadow of that ideal life idea. For starters a miserable marriage that eroded the concept of that perfect family setting. I divorced. A few years later the economic recession further shook up our career woman. These were to be blessings in disguise as I would find out later. Such events give you wings to think on your feet and take charge of your direction in life in a bolder more assertive way. Because if you are not the master of your own destiny, at least be sure to be the actor, play an active part and get involved in your own life rather than be the victim.

I am a free spirit, there is no denying. You can't tin it, cage it, clone it. Like wordsmith William Wordsworth would put in verse, 'I wandered lonely as a cloud' over a field of golden daffodils, free and fancy-free, untroubled... As a child I used to revel in adventure books and in the Kuoni travel brochures that promised you Heaven on Earth twenty thousand miles away from home. American Far West period dramas and films like Out of Africa had me hooked. It was clear to me that one day I would unshackle from the obligatory rat race, travel the world and shack up with like-minded people. After deciding at a young age that air hostessing could be the way forward in order to satisfy my wanderlust, I ambitioned to become a photo journalist/ travel writer for the likes of National Geographic. I even imagined the possibility of becoming an actress, in fact combining innate creativity outlets with travel.

'Limestone Towers, Madagascar', photo by Stephen Alvarez, via National Geographic

I never became any of the above. I tamed up for a while. I played the career game. I tried to believe in home and marriage. I yearned stability and normality. Occasionally I did get itchy feet though. I remember vividly those British newspaper adverts from New Zealand authorities inviting emigration candidates to the New World. I saw emigration to faraway places as the answer to happiness. I wanted to make the move but got scared and just backed off. I needed that nudge to tilt me forward, that back-up. Or was that just an excuse to stay put and nurture regrets instead?

For the last year or so, I have been mingling with a crowd of world travellers and free spirits, some of whom with a guitar as weapon of mass seduction, who will never tick any of the boxes of our first paragraph and don't give a monkeys about it. These guys made me understand that you shouldn't base your self-worth on your salary figure and that no business, no company will set you up for life. You need enough money to get by and you need to make things and think outside the box. You need a job that is meaningful, where you give back to society and the world at large.

'Quiver Trees, Namibia', photo by Franz Lanting, via National Geographic

Scale back the volume of your belongings. Maybe home ownership is not your solution after all. Maybe being a no-strings-attached nomad is meant for you. You need to understand what motivates you, what gives you a kick, what makes you tick, and then act accordingly. Have an open mind and a smile to conquer the world, be tolerant of differences and be acceptant. You need to seek happiness always and encourage exchange with others. Contribute a difference to that world, no matter how modest. Substantiate your life with personal growth experiences from ethics to travel to charity, via ecology and sustainability. Now this talks my language as an 'armchair' ecologist. Giving a meaningful meaning to your life is what this is all about. This is part of my quest. My quest for wisdom. (to be continued)

The (Late) Lowdown on London (Part 3)

So then what do I make out of my nine-day London city break? In an ideal world I might have made more of an adventure out of it rather than stick to the roads well travelled that span an area comprised between Covent Garden and Oxford Street but on this particular occasion I realised that I was more after a break than an actual city break.

I still managed to stretch my comfort zone to a long walk across The Mall and down The Embankment on that glorious Spring day, play the tourist with my latest digital camera in tow, massage my ego down Bond Street, pay Fenwick a visit and lose myself in the Britishness of Fortnum & Mason. I purchased some of my all-time favourite Charbonnel & Walker chocolates and Farrah toffee, succumbed to the joys of high tea served in plush tea rooms, treated myself to coffee & walnut cake - my favourite British delicacy. I sampled those already familiar little bits of (eye) candy that make Britannia what it stands for in my mind: well-packaged, delicate and exquisite. The devil was in the detail.

Down the line I even took the time to strike up lovely conversations with some lovely folks and even won a huge box of Thorntons chocolates from a random HSBC branch I was randomly walking past! These all made my day in their own special way!

London in a nutshell was a breath of fresh air for the city girl in me who had been living the rural island life for over two years now and who had been banging on about the buzz, the pulse, the vibe, the visual identity of the big city. I needed that. I needed to immerse myself in it, go crowd surfing, dizzily transported past tall elegant architectural buildings with things to notice, people to watch and a nod to familiar concepts from my career past: brand identity, retail theatre and consumer behaviour. Yeah as cliché as this may sound, you can take me out of marketing but you can't take marketing out of me!

The Covent Garden Academy of Flowers

The (Late) Lowdown on London (Part 2)

Sorry Mr Lou Reed but when in London I didn't "walk on the wild side". Rather I took the road well travelled. Staying so close to what the capital city has to offer in terms of "mainstream" action, I even had the luxury to be able to walk here, there and everywhere. No need for the Tube, for buses, carts or horses, yay!

This was one of the advantages about the Kingsley by Thistle Hotel, Bloomsbury Way. As you step out, you turn right and carry all the way up. Or you might nip to the back like I did and wander down the back streets in order to avoid the heavier traffic, past the British Museum, down Charlotte Street, and end up towards Harley Street (if vanity is your thing!). I actually had a bit of a field day down the Charlotte Street area, past the media agencies and advertising studios. That took me back years when I used to work in the industry.

As long as your London tastes are pretty tame, you will find the Kingsley Hotel to be at the heart of the action in relation to London's main shopping venues including Oxford Street and Covent Garden, museums (British Museum, Tate Britain) and entertaining hotspots (The West End). The beauty of it was that I could even nip back to the hotel during the day if I wanted to put my feet up for a while, change shoes, brew up a coffee or whatever tickled my fancy. This was no rock'n'roll city break, and this is probably why I got bored somehow!

In terms of refreshments taking you from AM to PM, there's only so many Starbucks, Prêt A Mangers and Costa Coffees you can handle. They have watered down the high street to saturation level and if you are telling me their expansionist mission has not yet reached its peak I scream!

On the retail front, some stores had me wobbly with anticipation but sadly didn't live up to my (somewhat inflated) expectations. Anthropologie (on Regent Street) was one of them. As much as I find the brand identity cool online, it fell pretty flat on the high street, in terms of store design and display. The wares looked lost in store. Interestingly I am told that Regent Street used to be a pretty exclusive shopping destination, once boasting an array of high-end one-of-a-kind flagship stores whereas now it seems to be nothing more than an extension of Oxford Street, pure and simple.

Kate Spade London (Covent Garden)

Talking of Oxford Street, I was left disappointed by another American brand that had me raving years ago when I first discovered it on a trip to Santa Barbara, CA: Urban Outfitters. The one on Oxford Street failed the test. The store design was a shambles and no wares actually caught my eye. I left empty-handed. Where are those cool vintage tee-shirts?

A trip to London wouldn't have been so without Liberty and Selfridges on the list. Liberty is still packed-full with style and character, despite my initial fears. Their stationery department is a treasure trove, and the iconic Liberty floral fabrics still have that magnetic hold on visitors.

Liberty's fresh flower stall

Selfridges is one big high-end shopping mecca, a house of mostly luxury brands that enabled me to get close and personal with the likes of Christian Louboutin and wonder what this is all about, unless you are planning to trade your looks as Belle de Jour... I wandered down the Tiffany aisle and then even treated myself to a deluxe microdermabrasion facial at Groom.

While I was at it, I even booked a hair colour from the Toni & Guy Academy (New Oxford Street) across from my hotel. I might as well have. The colour was fabulous and it made me feel good for the rest of my stay. (to be continued)

The (Late) Lowdown on London (Part 1)

Crikey, here is a piece I had planned to write on my return from London at the end of March! I got sidetracked somehow. I wish I had a valid excuse as to why I couldn't deliver the goods there and then rather than five months later, almost as an after-thought, but erm actually I don't have any excuses. Will you ever forgive me though?

There's probably a hidden message there somewhere. Sure there is. London was London, I just wasn't me for the whole nine days I was there. When I go to England, I go 'home' to Manchester, my hometown of 16 years. I just slip into that comfort zone, the familiar haunts, familiar faces, recapture memories and let my moods tickle my fancy.

London just isn't home. Nobody forced me to go to London, I just went along an idea I'd had with a girl friend of mine, Isabelle, and off we went.

The London I had experienced years ago had been exhilarating. The London I experienced back in March was... erm flat boring. I wanted excitement. I imagine the lack of it was a bit like how an out-of-body experience must feel: you are somewhere else but know you are not supposed to be there, your heart's not in it.

I stayed in luxury in a Bloomsbury hotel, but I'd had more fun times staying in grotty B&Bs those years back. Back then London was full of opportunities and possibilities to me. Now there was nothing it could offer me that I was looking for. No happiness, no satisfaction. No contentment. I tried to amuse myself with the London shopping experience, but once the initial awe had subsided after I stepped into Selfridges and Bond Street, I couldn't help but feel lonely, feel at odds with it all.

I became moody. I didn't like my own company anymore. I started missing people and that wasn't a good sign. Isabelle and I who should have got on like a house on fire, ended up avoiding each other and go our separate ways. As much as I love and cherish England, as much as I am a fan of London, on this occasion I wanted to go home.

Then as soon as I landed back on French soil, I got busy, I got caught up in life... Better, faster, shinier things to do and experience I guess than finalise that post about London... I put the blog on hold. I understand now that I had to come full circle before I could come to terms with that journey. As much as a geographical trip, it had been a personal journey, a life journey. I was lost and it took me five months to refocus my energy and determine where I stand in life. I am in a better place today and there is no stopping me! (to be continued)

No Labels

Easy come easy go... We live in a society where we stick labels on anything that moves, on anyone. We pep up our conversations and writings with a liberal use of words that take up space and have no meaning. Labels that help us codify people, styles, ideas, concepts, feelings. Hands up, I am myself guilty of labelling.

'Sheepish', photo by Karena Goldfinch, via Flickr (25/03/2010)

First we've got those passe-partout labels that are supposed to describe someone: worn-out, vague, elusive overused 'one-size-fits-all' adjective labels that are stickable and reusable and adaptable to all circumstances like velcro patches... Labels that don't mean that much to anyone anymore: cool, awesome, rad, great, fantastic...  And those adverbs that nail the message, reiterate it: a (little) bit, kinda/ sort of, very much, a lot/ loads, really, truly, definitely, totally, absolutely...

Problem is, my definition of 'cool' might be slightly off centre, your definition of 'cool' might be off limit, their definition of 'cool' might be plain preppy conservative... And I certainly won't agree with my dad's definition of 'cool' unless it involves Steve McQueen or a vintage Ford Mustang.

Cool as the Camaro! (Pict source via Tumblr)

I still have nightmares about my philosophy classes back in my last year of secondary school. I was 17, dressed to impress (in a bad way!) and just about managing my own eccentricities as a gothic rebel, so this was as philosophical as it was gonna get for me in that lifestage of mine. Then in class we were told not to use words like 'very' anymore. Either something was good or it wasn't. My teacher's pet hate was anyone saying 'absolutely true/ right'. Truth is absolute.

The teacher was even more suspicious of adjectives that involved wider quantification like huge, immense... Everything is in proportion and in relation to one another in the great scheme of things. She lost me. I recall a similar stance from Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society and this certainly left an impact on me. If philosophy never became my cuppa tea, at the very least it raised some awareness in me and did make me self-conscious about word usage and in particular those easy labels.

The King of Cool! (Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images, photo by John Dominis)

For instance, you either love someone or you don't. You don't love them 'just a bit'... Maybe you like them instead. Maybe you are fond of them. If you love them very much, you adore them. Then sure enough my philosophy teacher would step in and give us a spiel about adoration. Some words need to be used carefully, or - at least - with moderation.

Now check out those loose chat-up lines:

- 'Did you have a great time last night, honey?'
- 'I had a good time!'
- 'A good time, uh? Is that all you had? What was wrong?'
- 'Nothing was wrong. I just had a good time.'
- 'Just a good time, now I see... Well honey, don't worry about the next time, cos we're done!'

Now please - can I have those labels back? I kinda need them very very much!

It's Complicated!

I've heard that one a few times and it never ceases to amaze me. From friends, acquaintances, family members... When you catch up on affairs of the heart with one of them, the first filler words that are likely to come out are: "It's complicated". Then the awkward silence is either broken by a long sigh, an expressive nod, a long sideways glace or a dramatic shutting of the eyes that mean anything from "you know what I mean", "it's nothing important", "can we change the subject please" to "I don't know where to start"...  Then if you are lucky and patient enough, you get the story. And what a confusing story this is likely to be!

'The Reunion', giclée art print by Dan May via OMG Posters (also via Big Cartel)

Now come on, it's as complicated as you make it out to be. It's not easy to open up, sure, and sometimes the less you know the person the easier it is to open up to them as they won't be as inclined to pass judgement and offer unsollicited assistance to half-told, half-understood, half-listened to problems and situations.

If you want a piece of my mind, here we go. I have never understood why love had to be complicated, toxic, shrouded in codes and mystery, tarnished with secrets, regrets, remorse, poisoned by untold truths and jealousy, marred by unreasonable expectations. Love is simple and unconditional. You either feel it or you don't. You either love that person or you don't. There's no two ways about it, there's no two ways to show it. Why complicate it? Why go about it with "ifs" and "buts" and intellectualise it à la Woody Allen?

Picture source: Immaculate Conception

Beware the consequences. Love is a bomb. As sure as it has the potential to positively enliven your heart and turn your life upside-down, it also has the potential to hurt it and destroy it like no other. So why play with fire in the first place and play it complicated? Keep your heart open, handle with care, show it respect. Have faith in yourself and that significant other. Have trust. And most of all be honest with yourself. Why pretend, why complicate?

Playing the love game, now this is something that I used to find slightly amusing moons ago and that I described as a romantic display of affection. The slow convoluted courting, the protocole of love, the étiquette. And then one day I decided that love is too passionate to follow rules. The only thing to follow is your heart, your instinct, your impulse, your intuition, your gut feeling, your destiny, what you believe is best. And that frees your mind and takes out any complications. Time is precious, use it wisely. Love is precious, use it wildly!

Picture source: Atravez de mis Ojos

End of Season

The season was brief this year, 5 weeks if that, from mid-July. Hordes of tourists pouring onto every beach, every coastline path, every scenic spot, camper vans, motorbikes, family cars converging towards every resort across the island, traffic jams, heatwave, full-on madness.

Us year-long residents get caught into that big holiday buzz that gives off that artificial happy vibe although we are not part of it. Tourists and residents glide past each other, each to their own with no or little interaction unless you are a tourist-based service provider. The buzz just ceases as quickly as it fused in the first place. A mirage all to itself.

The vast majority of tourists and visitors are now gone, and it feels eerily silent. Not that we felt part of the buzz in the first place as I said, just that we got caught in it through our daily lives. To me it feels like I have been beached. They've all gone back to the reality of modern urban life, their hectic lifestyle in the city, their careers, their fast-paced social activities that I can't help but embellish in my mind and envy... Up in the sticks on the island I feel totally out of it, totally left out, like I am missing something, like I am stuck in a bubble.

I am a city girl at heart who happens to live on an island. I've been here for two and a half years now and I am still adjusting. Island life deserves a blogpost all to itself and I will let out some steam about it in the coming weeks, no doubt.

Tourists love it: the hot weather, the profusion of beaches, water sports, trendy bars and clubs, music festivals, tanned chicks with foreign accents strolling past wearing little more than insouciance, a heady cocktail of sea, sex and sun. They love it so much that they don't wanna leave, but they always do though. City life beckons. They come here for the good times, but don't necessarily want to know about the reality of it 365 days a year, when you lot end up finding yourself stuck with that same old clique of locals, going round in circles in your head and in your car (it's an island, man!), the dragging October-March months that cut you off the rest of the world. The internet might be a godsend but it is hardly a substitute for life...

Yeah people do get lonely in cities, I agree. Now how about lonely in the countryside, I'm asking you? Lonely sat on that great stretch of sandy beach, lonely standing on that mountaintop with commanding views across the island, lonely down that bucolic forest path, in the middle of that charming village square, in your lovely little house up the hill...

Every week-end I get invited to parties and I turn most of them down. Not sure what the reason for the parties is, there is usually no birthday nor engagement nor divorce nor job promotion in sight, nothing worth celebrating. It's more to do with people wanting to get together, to kill time, forget their problems with booze and try to find themselves in this common denominator of solitude. There is an air of defeat about. Some individuals have indulged for so long now that they are paying the price and are well on their way of losing the plot altogether. One or two even look like they have never come down since ten solstices ago. Some believe they are still in Koh Phi Phi. One Iggy Pop-lookalike even calls himself a guru. It's unnerving. This is not my scene. I choose life.

I know some natives old enough to be my parents who have spent their whole lives silently suffering solitude and physical and mental isolation. They tell me no-one can get used to this, so it's best to just resign oneself to the idea, yet they are incapable of locking that front door one last time and board the next mainland ferry once and for all to experience something else out of life!

As for me, I'm gonna do something about it. I have a plan.

The American Soundtrack to my Life

Some parties were made to be dull and forgotten, pass. Other parties were made to twist rules, break them, leave a lasting impression and make your heart skip a beat or two and go aflutter. The party I'm gonna tell you about is one of them. It happened slightly over a week ago, Saturday 18th August. It started off as an all-day open-day outdoor event organised by my work. It had been a gorgeous if scorching Summer day (remember I happen to be 'privileged' enough to live on a Southern French island!).

(Picture source)

The event carried into the balmy evening, although guest numbers started to dwindle fast after 8pm. Slightly after I found myself sat on my own at a garden table, patiently trying to work out the faulty sound system off some silly-billy mini-laptop computer, while silently grumbling about how boring the whole evening actually was. Then this dude came over: "Having trouble here? How about listening to music with this one instead?" I looked up. There was that American guy I'd spotted earlier on that day handing his shiny laptop computer over to me. "I've got over 10,000 songs on it, you can listen to whatever you want!" he said with a big smile. This guy was about to change my night, our night. He brought a vibe, a smile, a gaze, a beat, an aura that made him instantly shine from the rest of the crew. He sat next to me and we set the night on fire.

Now I'm no musical wallflower and I'm no Justin Bieber fan. I mean business as far as music is concerned, and no-one actually dares making fun of me in that department. My tastes are not associated with the more "expected", typical predictable female tastes in music. And this guy, understood it straight away. Where a French guy would have typically missed the point and bored me senseless with some intellectual bullsh*t, he was the man of the situation.

(Picture source)

It became clear that he and I were not gonna be crowd-pleasing DJs, we weren't gonna play music for the masses, or what was left of them, a handful of colleagues and friends hugging drinks and getting merry by the outdoor bar without even looking that happy... He and I made sure we got our bottle of white wine and returned to our spot.

Sat there we talked the absolute night away, in keeping with the music, dozens of songs from a variety of repertoires that personally, emotionally meant something to us. Reminiscence songs. And when I dare say the night away, do I look like I'm making this up? Uh, not really. We talked non-stop till I had to leave the next day Sunday at 10:30am to go to my mum's birthday party!

How about the playlist? Eclectic and not as heavy metal as might have been predicted. We listenened to everything from Incubus to Johnny Cash, Blink 182, The Doors and Soundgarden to Bob Dylan, Black Eyed Peas, The Killers, Sugar Ray, KiD CuDI, Neil Young, Papa Roach and Marilyn Manson. We talked about Lacuna Coil (although not a US band), A Perfect Circle, Stone Sour, The Dandy Warhols and of course Nirvana...



That night, to the sound of cool music we talked about travel, sport, religion, the quest for wisdom, the laws of relativity, fate, astronomy, Nietzsche, hobbies, goals, hopes, fears...

Time played against us, speeding past faster than sound. That's the way it always feels when you're in great company having fun: time flies. Like you're swept into a time capsule, time-travelling around your own orbit.

I never saw that guy again. Wherever in the world he is now, God knows.

Sunny Side Up with Origami Hen!

Barren battery cages and thirty seconds... Thirty seconds is all it takes for this short animation film to hit it on the head by dishing out a handful of grim facts about battery hen cruelty. It clearly implies that organic is a healthier option for the birds.

Think about it: paying that little bit extra for your eggs will secure that extra leeway for the hens in terms of legroom, natural light and a taste for the outdoors where they will be able to express natural behaviour, foraging for food, having a dust bath and generally enjoy the freedom to roam.

Welfare eggs come at a price, so make sure you make the commitment for the sake of the birds. In doing so, you will help add further pressure against unethical industrial farming that yields those cheap mass-produced eggs. Support Compassion in World Farming's Big Move to help 'unfold a better future for hens' and pressure those countries like Spain and the US that still disrespect their legal rights! Don't you agree that hens, the suppliers to our full English breakfasts, sauces, custards, ice-creams and other delights deserve their lives to be that little eggstraordinary?

March 2012 - Five Random Faves (Part 5)

Fave #5: Accessorise that outfit and bling it cheap with TopShop!

I'm just back from London where I've enjoyed a 9-day break mostly devoted to shopping, sightseeing and lie-ins in the morning, nothing too strenuous and no guilt trips. But eh, isn't what vacations are meant to be?

I have to admit that my love affair with Topshop (if we ever could call it this way) had somewhat started cooling off a decade ago, with the advent of more exciting branded chains up the high street and department stores upping the ante in keeping with the fickleness of fashion.

This time around down Oxford Street, I would have probably given TopShop a miss if it wasn't for my friend Isabelle who enticed me in. Although I personally wasn't much impressed with the actual clothes fashion that took me back to my teeny-weeny years in the 80s (who would have known these shapeless oversize stripped tops would ever be back in fashion?), the ground floor was entirely devoted to accessories: handbags, vintage bags and scarves (the latter the kind of imitation "carré Hermès" that my grandma used to wear), plus jewellery (mainly fancy, vintage-inspired and ethnic), and a cupcake bar down the centre, because couture - either fake or real - is never further than a cupcake away these days!

Fit for purpose? You bet.

It would have been easy to feel the need to splurge, but I stayed good. I only bought one item of jewellery (see top picture), a wooden assemblage in eye-catching yellow with icon-like figurines glued on top. Quirky clean fun for a fiver, I couldn't go wrong, and no doubt this will get me noticed (flash that wrist Nat, and again and again!). Wink, wink...

March 2012 - Five Random Faves (Part 4)

Cook up a storm vintage-style with a little (great!) help from The Vintage Tea Party Book by Angel Adoree!

Hey folks, I'm just back from London and what a great time I had! But before I get into the nitty gritty, I wanted to share one of my great shopping finds: it's a cookbook I randomly sourced from Selfridges, Oxford Street's defacto flagship department store, the nec-plus-ultra fashion mecca at the heart of the high street.

Let's not be fooled here because this is no ordinary cookbook, it is an experience, straight from the heart and soul of a slightly eccentric character and business entrepreneur in the name of Angel Adoree who despite the bright hair and odd piercing holds good old-fashioned values firmly at heart and with this in mind put together a book that exudes Britannia in a cooler form than the so-called Cool Britannia clique from back in the 90s could have ever done...

More kudos than your nan's dining room (pict source)

In her book, Angel (Angela by birth, in case you happened to wonder) presents easy tea party recipes direct from her Vintage Pâtisserie venture to suit any time of day and budget, with hints about hairdos, vintage crockery, flowers in season and personal comments,  like a friend can only make them.

I told you, this book is an experience! For now, I keep it on my bedside table. I might consider relocating it to the kitchen to try out the recipes, but for now I'll keep it upstairs as I never tire of flicking through the pages, reading the anecdotes and gazing at the beautifully propped, nostalgia-laden photographs! (to be continued)

** Stop Press ** Look who's been talking to me on Twitter? Angel Adoree herself!

March 2012 - Five Random Faves (Part 3)

Fave #3: Get the London look without Kate Moss fluttering her Rimmel lashes at you, oh no!

From London with Love, how else?

As we speak, La Baguette should be starting to think about packing up those bags as we are due in the Big Smog for 14th March for a 9-day stay with a friend of mine, Isabelle.

Last time I'd had a proper London break was almost exactly one decade ago (2002! Blimey, time flies!). I'd managed to pack in some cultural visits (Tate Modern, the definite highlight to my trip, and bits of the National Gallery) interspersed with long walks around the Covent Garden area enjoying the balmy afternoons between cappuccinos and sweet treats, and taking the pulse of a capital city that has kept its fashion and cultural edge in check.

From London with Love

I'd also made what became some of my wisest shopping purchases: a cool top from Esprit, heavenly E'spa Spafresh, courier bag from Gap and pink sunglasses from Nine West that were to become my all-time favourites and have lasted me to this day for only a couple of tenners! Winner!

It goes without saying that London is more than a museum and shopping destination: it is also a very atmospheric city, that marries tradition and avant-garde, whether in architecture, design, style or everyday life. It is a place of great fascination, a trend-setter and ever young, like Dorian Gray without the side effects! Can't wait to go back! (to be continued)

March 2012 - Five Random Faves (Part 2)

Fave #2: Pop outside and spring into Spring!

If it's still nippy out there, we can't help but noticing that Spring is around the corner. Little hints point in that direction, apart from the warming temperatures (after that freezing start to the year!).

After the dragging hibernative Winter months, Spring signals nature's rebirth, and if you have a garden you will be prone to notice those subtle changes on your doorstep, from daffodils, snowdrops and primula popping up, to grass growth, to even the odd bee venturing past and birds launching into a concerto. Days are getting longer too and invite us to stay outdoors for longer!

You've guessed it, Spring is La Baguette's favourite season! To us it is like an epiphany, an announcement of hope and floral beauty! The big reveal is on its way and this is all we need to appease the aptly-named SAD (seasonal affective disorder)! (to be continued)

Want more? Check out La Baguette's Week-End Wonderweb on Spring, from last year.

March 2012 - Five Random Faves (Part 1)

Fave #1: Pin it with Pinterest!

Our 'At Home with Mirabelle' pinboard

Hey guys, there's this new(-ish) internet gadget in town called Pinterest! It is the wannabe aesthete's best friend, and anyone who's anyone has a Pinterest account, even our sister site Mirabelle Design Inspiration! And even La Baguette has garnered a fan base. Wow, so tell us more about that new kid on the block...

Pinterest is basically a giant worldwide visual pinboard fed through by its members. Individually each user has total control over which visuals they wish to pin and collate and organise into their own pinboards. You can add to the existing feeds content by adding brand new photographic material to it, whether your very own or from other sources. The easy user interface enables in principle to trace back to the origins of every source, copyrighted or otherwise, although it is alleged that image stock companies and Flickr have expressed concerns.

Some of Mirabelle Design Inspiration's boards

Check our easy-peasy tutorial. Once you've registered with the cool clique at Palo Alto and installed the all-essential 'Pin It' button upon your tool bar, the protocol is simple: everytime you come across a picture (or video even) of interest to you, whether content-wise or style-wise or otherwise, you click the 'Pin It' button and Bob's your uncle! You organise your virtual pins onto virtual pinboards, according to topic, genre, style etc. and you end up creating photographic mood boards, colour palettes and visual mosaics that can literally take your breath away!

As explained above, you have the facility to repin existing pins from other members directly off the user activity stream. Believe you me, repinning is very tempting indeed, and like the rest of the Pinterest experience, a very addictive activity, you have been warned! You can choose to 'Like' pictures if you wish and those likes will in turn be organised onto a pinboard.

If you haven't yet given Pinterest a try, why wait any longer? It is nothing like hard work, it is fun, inspiring, and there will always be that image somewhere that will make you smile, or make you go weak at the knee! Complete feelgood therapy! (to be continued)

International Women's Day 2012

If you ask me what a 21st century woman is, here is my answer... Woman is a celebration: from the artform to the more prosaic as breadwinner. Woman is a lifestyle: from the proverbial 'cook in the kitchen, maid in the parlour and whore in the bedroom', to daughter, sister, wife, mother, friend. Woman means business: from career to civil rights to trade unions, to politics. Woman is the five continents and the seven seas: whole, complex, diverse, and a spectrum of opposite yet complementing qualities: sensitive and strong, idealist and practical, visionary and grounded, independent and dependable.

40 is the new 30 and Jennifer Aniston is it! (picture source)

I'll leave those 'primal' eye-for-an-eye angry frustrated tomboyish feminist answers to ladettes and the likes. This doesn't mean that I live under the thumb. Far from it. But in this day and age, gender issues in our Western societies perhaps do not have the same connotation as they did forty years ago. By the same token, I will carry on despising the misogynist macho types out there (I sadly personally know a few of them) who show women no respect, and believe their role lies in satisfying their every need. These very men who also encourage directly or indirectly through their attitude wage disparity across genders to perdure to this day.

One for all, all for one! (source: Sometimes Sweet)

I'll also carry on waging war against those sectarian religious beliefs that totally undermine women, forcing them into loveless mariages, stripping them off their personal, intellectual and financial freedom, squashing their pride, mutulating their feminity at its core to turn them into scared, submissive baby-making objects.

Tomorrow 8th March is International Women's Day, and La Baguette wanted to celebrate this event in its own special way, with a photo montage of the modern woman and what it represents (pay attention to the captions!), and to show us ladies that in a certain way we actually never had it so good... Yes the world is changing, and yes the financial climate is far from rosy, but it is up to us to keep seizing those opportunities that will make life what we make it. Yes we can!

Be yourself and be kind to yourself (yours truly on a good day!)

And the Big Hug Winner is... Uggie!

Unless you've been cast off an atoll in the middle of the ocean lately, you sure will have heard of The Artist, a black and white silent movie which has set Hollywood ablaze with 5 Oscars! The film is set in the 1920s with the unique selling point of having been filmed in 2011 (which is one of the main attractions of the film).

(Picture source: Huh)

The plot centres around matinée idol George Valentin's struggles to stay ahead of the acting game with the advent of talkies. This French film inspired by the early heyday of Hollywood motion picture celebrates celluloid as a parody that faithfully sticks to the mannerisms, fashion, studio décor and cinematographic challenges of the times.

Two artists (picture source)

Alongside main actors Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo is a canine companion with flair who has more than one trick up his sleeve as an artist of his own: welcome Uggie, a talented 10-year-old Jack Russell Terrier sure to melt your heart!

Uggie 'The Artist' Dog Steals Oscar Spotlight (picture source: Terra, 27/02/12)

We love Uggie to bits here at La Baguette (although he's not the only JRT that we are smitten for!). We wish the four-legged silver screen star every success in the future and a happy retirement as we hear he's off counting the dollar bills on a Honolulu beach over a well-deserved Margarita. Well done Uggie for your composition role!

Meanwhile we'll follow your adventures on Twitter, blow you kisses on Facebook, and enjoy your recent appearance on the Ellen de Generes show. What a star!

February 2012 - Five Random Faves (Part 5)

Fave #5: Find yourself and never lose it with Lost in Translation!

Talk-shy in Tokyo (picture source)

Lost in Translation (2003) is one of La Baguette's favourite films of the last decade! It's as far from the typical full-on, effects-packed, all-singing all-dancing American blockbuster as can be. We're talking low brow, low budget American film, personal, timeless and almost European in its approach.

Not only has the Sofia Coppola feature film reached cult status but so has its title. The press, bloggers, Joe Bloggs and others have all adopted it as a catchphrase.

The trappings of daily communication, convention, social codes and relationships are stretched further and put to the test when you're plucked out of your comfortable Western surroundings and thrown into Japanese culture and way of life, carried out by a tide of human density, human emotions, innuendoes, misunderstandings, silences and long glances, surprised looks, blank stares, late-night jet-lagged errings and forced introspections.




Bob Harris (Bill Murray) and Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) are both American, yet they come from two different if not opposite walks of life. They face their own doubts and fears and solitude. They also meet up, they get lost together, they rejoin and they part.

This is a beautiful, intimate, chemistry-charged film. Neither smarmy, chick flick nor dramatic. It's a film about relationships, with number one, with the busy partner, with others. It's grand, yet awesomely personal at the same time. A delight on the box! We ♥ it!

February 2012 - Five Random Faves (Part 4)

Fave #4: Get one step closer to vegetarianism with Meat Free Monday!

Carnivorous friends, if the road to veggie is paved with good intentions that you feel unattainable, how about start off the week with a neat little compromise like going meat-free for the day? Monday is ideal as a good detox day after the week-end's excesses, and one day can't be that harsh a start surely, even if you are a die-hard meat eater!

And even less so when you know that not only will you be doing your health a favour while giving animal life a break, but also helping the planet at large? And you will be carrying out your one-day diet in stellar surroundings (or did I mean 'Stella', as in Stella McCartney?).

According to Meat Free Monday, 'The estimated 634 gallons of fresh water required to produce one 5.2 ounce (147g) beef burger would be enough for a four-hour shower. For comparision, the same quantity of tofu requires 143 gallons of water to produce.' Check MFM for more fascinating facts, as well as for mouth-watering recipes.

To La Baguette it pays off to be a round-the-year veggie, but it certainly is one step in the right direction for any of our meat-loving friends to give one day a week an animal miss! (to be continued)

Ready to commit further?

• Get ready as March is Veggie Month (with a compelling video to remind us that meat is murder and put us off that chop!) 
• Check out Animal Aid's 'Guide to Going Veggie or Vegan'
• Find out more about the dairy cows plea with La Baguette.