Apologies to Daphne du Maurier for mucking with her opening line to my favourite novel – Rebecca.
But truly I did dream this last night. That I was at the gorgeous Parisian institution for all things delectable Laduree. The spiritual home of the macaroon.
Sweeten your day, have a look at their website, it is tres chic – the opening scene.
How can I be so sure that it was not just one of those dozing thoughts that pop into your head when you lie in bed in the morning – for just a minute? Before flinging yourself at the day.
Well because in this dream I was 5 foot nine, size 8 and wearing head to toe Chanel. Every single one of those details is so not my reality.
I do love how the subconscious works. Why did I have the dream I wonder? Maybe because it was exactly a year ago that I visited Paris with my sister – for a girls only trip to The City of Lights.
- Where yes we were eating in Paris – Pistachio macaroons, and Caramel and Chocolate and…well more than the French women were eating anyway.
- Where we bought each other a vintage Hermes scarf – fighting over one before both choosing another.
- Where we arrived for dinner in a very chic restaurant – with neither of us wearing black and thus ensuring we stood out from the very beautiful and dark clad crowd.
- Where we stayed up all night – lying in our VERY close twin beds in our VERY tiny twin room. Eating sweeties and laughing like young girls.
A trip clearly imprinted in my memory. Giving easy access to it in my sweet slumber…Because I cannot go to Paris again this week – or next – I get my fix from the wonderful Vicki Archer’s blog french essence it’s almost as good as being there.