Month: October 2015

My Stylish French Girlfriends by Sharon Santoni

As some of you know, I came to blogging via a convex route: aka my companion Remi telling me that, as my career as a travel writer had been put on hold, I had to start doing something creative as an outlet because my restlessness was driving him crazy. He suggested that I start a blog. This blog, actually. But at the time, blogs were still…questionably legitimate. Coming from the background of already being a professional journalist, I puffed up as a snob. That is until I started looking further into what they were. The very first blog that I found which clicked with me was My French Country Home. As soon as I began delving into the fine phrasing and poring over all of the lush, original photography, I quickly changed my tune to, “Oh my goodness, I can’t do this!” Finally, I decided to stop reading it for a while until I found my own voice, my own way of doing things.
Interestingly enough, today I am really grateful to call Sharon Santoni, who is the blog’s author, a friend – albeit one that I haven’t met yet in person, as hard as that is to remember sometimes. She is an amazing woman – smart as a whip, thoughtful, romantic yet driven, extremely generous in her support, incredibly funny and has pitch-perfect taste. My French Country Home only continues to grow and accrue enormous success with thousands of readers all around the world. And she deserves every bit of it as she is an unbelievably hard-worker who has persistently pushes herself and her aesthetic at a non-stop pace…all while making it appear…effortless.
Eh, oui. C’est ça l’histoire. And it something that she has very much in common with the subjects of her new book, “My Stylish French Girlfriends.”
Now, listen. I am as over the deification of the French woman as the next person. I know plenty of seriously hot messes here in Provence and remember thinking when I first moved to Paris fourteen years ago that, “New Yorkers dress better than les Parisiennes! Ha!” But…but…I have to admit that when the French woman gets it right…she nails it. Because for her, it goes far beyond appearance to constructing an interesting and interested full life, one that often has been settled on her own terms too.
Does money help in this process? Well, of course it can. And I will admit (with embarrassment) that when Sharon first told me about this project I had a wee apprehension of “Will this only be about wealthy women who have access to everything?” shimmy over me but of course I should have given my friend more credit than that (sorry!) for she was determined to present twenty women of all age ranges with varied careers and economic statuses who live throughout this glorious hexagone called France.
The common thread that unites them is that they are not in search of perfection (an evil, poisonous word if ever there was one) but of authenticity by making specific choices to build a life true to their spirit and dreams. We are first introduced to Alicia, a charming young redhead (a-hem) who left school at the age of fifteen to join a circus and now is a gifted stylist and brocanteuse. Several chapters later, we meet Evelyne, une femme d’un certain age, who, as the fifth generation to run Boizel, her family’s champagne vineyard, is searching for new resources to keep their bubbly relevant in this digital age. Amongst the women there are quite a few designers and decorators of varying tastes, as well as artists, antique dealers and business women with quite different lifestyles.

Through the gorgeous photography by Franck Schmitt, we are invited into the personal spaces that they share with their loved ones, creating an ambiance as intimate as the stories that Sharon reveals about each of her girlfriends. I know her writing well and her naturally calming cadence perfectly compliments Franck’s use of depth of field to softly guide the eye. Is the result quite glamorous? Yes, delightfully so but also grounded and real. The women do not appear to be overly made-up for the camera and Sharon states that the homes were not styled beyond the addition of fresh flowers. For me, that makes it especially appealing. Finely printed, it is a beautiful book.
Another aspect that Sharon fought hard for during its inception was its size. It is big but not too much, just perfect to balance on one’s knees and yet not so small as to be shuffled away on a bookshelf…ça serait dommage. I was given “My Stylish French Girlfriends” as a birthday gift from another wonderful friend, La Contessa. That was in August, so why am I only sharing it with you now? Well, I wanted to savor it. Rather than read it all at one go, I would sit down on the terrace in the end of summer light with a glass of wine and read a chapter, maybe two. It was enough to give me quite a lot to think about or swoon over, both equally important. And I still go back to simmer over the images and the text because in creating “My Stylish French Girlfriends” Sharon Santoni has given us a wonderful resource to something that all of these women exude…inspiration.

To get a glimpse, watch the video below…
This video and all images inside the book courtesy of ©MyStylishFrenchGirlfriends
To buy “My Stylish French Girlfriends” in the US through Amazon, click: here.
To buy it directly through her publisher, Gibbs Smith, click: here.
Pour l’acheter en France, cliquez: ici.
While there is a Kindle edition, I really think that the hardbound is best in this case.

To discover Sharon’s blog, by all means go to: http://sharonsantoni.com/
To follow her adventures on instagram: +Sharon Santoni
Her online brocante shop can be found: here.
For more information about her brocante and lifestyle tours, click: here.
And to inquire about staying at her guest cottage, click: here.

See? I told you that she is a hard-worker!

Sharon has no idea that I am doing this post today. But this month’s By Invitation Only topic – which reunites a group of bloggers around the globe to discuss a pre-determined theme – reintroduced last October’s question of, “What is the one thing that you can’t live without this Fall?” and I immediately thought, “inspiration” which lead me pronto to Sharon’s book. I know that quite a few of you already know and love it but for those of you who don’t, well, I hope that you enjoy “My French Stylish Girlfriends” as much as I do. Brava, Sharon!

To discover what the other bloggers have cooked up for this months theme, please visit: here.

With all of my Best from Provence,
Heather
PS. It goes without saying that, especially as he is a ladies man, Ben gives his hearty approval to “My Stylish French Girlfriends”…

Apple song

It is funny the frustrating things that slow-motion blur into helpful, then hop into good in the long run. 
I don’t tend to expound too much on Kipling’s rougher nature but it is something that we live with everyday. Our adopted dog was definitely beaten in his previous life and bitten too. So let’s just say that he tends to strike first when in doubt. I have learned to be as careful as a CIA agent when out on our walks for good reason, certainly as many folks tend to just open up their doors and let their dogs roam unaccompanied in the South of France. I tighten my grip on his leash and scan the horizon; I pay attention to the snap of each twig breaking, ready for what might come up at the next turn in the bend. Frankly, it can be a little exhausting but it is just a part of love. And over months – certainly since we have moved out to this village – I have come to rely heavily on my instinct. I listen hard to that inner voice far more than I used to. It can be uncanny how a “Wait. No, stop here,” has continuously averted potential dangers. 
I trust my instinct.
And it serves me for light-hearted pursuits as well. 
It was already late yesterday evening when I decided to ride my bike out to the garden. A big storm had been announced for today – yes, one that hit hard and had both dogs, including Kipling, hiding under my desk – and I wanted to make sure if there was anything that needed to come in. Remi had given me the black vintage bicycle for my birthday present. It needs huile somewhere up front – I am the veritable squeaky wheel – and so call my ride The Cricket. It was already wheezing heavily when I made a last minute right turn after la pharmacie to take the back road out. It is much longer, so much so that I had never ridden that path before but something had tugged me, go. 
I weaved around speed bumps and passed houses spinning chimney smoke before bumping down a dirt path next to an apple orchard. Yes, it was good that I had come as there were several newly tumbled tomatoes to rescue. I didn’t linger, the light was blooming. I pushed the pedals, rose up in my seat and caught my breath as I pulled up alongside the apple trees once more. Their perfume was calling me in a way that I had been too rushed to feel upon arriving. A smell that was far more complex than the rubber band word apple can convey, it was a song that ran from blossom to fruition. I stopped, awkwardly as I am still not confident on my bike and fished in my pocket for my camera, any modern testimony to something so time-worn and true.
Breathing in, breathing out fast, I cut across the pétanque court, wheels wobbling, light fading, straight to home, grateful for hearing and believing what I do.
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