The Lost Museum

Mr FS and I visited Berlin for the first time this summer. Because of my family's lucky escape from Austria in 1938 and because so many people I knew in childhood and beyond had lost relatives to the Holocaust, I was apprehensive. As it happened, I loved Berlin. We stayed in a now trendy area of the former East Berlin.

As usual, we got a museum card, in this case, a 3-day pass. All the museums are fairly small and several are clustered in "Museum Island." So we saw the must-sees--like Nefertiti--and then checked out some of the less visited exhibits.

One that intrigued me was at the Bode Museum: "The Lost  Museum." The exhibit consisted of full-size black and white photos of lost art works. Some were simply lost. Others were taken by Allied forces. Most taken by the Russian forces still have not been returned. Many works were stored for safekeeping and then were destroyed in a fire.  This last is, of course, ironic in the extreme, given the manner of death of so many people during the war. Here is an interesting essay on the exhibit from the Wall Street Journal.

The exhibit was almost empty. It was very moving. And, of course, the lost people are never far from one's mind.

In the lounge, we perused a catalog of the exhibit, which included many works not on display. I took a special look to see if there were any Veronese paintings among the lost. Indeed, there were.

Why did I look at Veronese?

Almost thirty years ago, when I was studying art in Chicago courtesy of the National Endowment for the Humanities,  the director of my seminar kindly invited me to dinner with a well-known scholar. The dinner was not a success. We went to a trendy restaurant, which was so noisy that I wince at the memory. There was a wait of over an hour. UGH. Also, I could tell the scholar was kind of bored with us, probably saving his energy for people who could help with his career.

He was an incredible gossip and I shared with him one delectable morsel. He then told a story about how he came to own a Veronese.

Shopping in Paris: A Shallow and Boring Post

Miss Em told me that we should have two email threads: one for travel/art and one for shallow concerns. This is a shallow post: shopping in Paris, summer 2015. We were also in Berlin and Amsterdam, but did not buy anything other than food and drink.

I had prepared for shopping in Paris by looking at the Monoprix site. I was--sort of--interested in some slouchy pants (Eileen Fisher type, 20 euros) and some knit linen pieces (also Eileen Fisher-esque, 20-25 euros). I was planning to wait for the sales near the end of my stay.

Shopping was jumpstarted, however: after a stressful delay and dash for our connection at JFK, we made it...but our luggage did not. AirFrance offered us 100 euros per person for necessities. Of course, this involved saving receipts and sending in paperwork after return.

Wearing our scuzzy clothing for a day after arrival (luggage showed up after 3 days) encouraged us to take up the offer, even though I tend to distrust such offers, having been burned many times before. In we went to Monoprix where we each spent a hundred euros: Mr FS on some jeans and a linen shirt and a hairbrush and me on the slouchy pants and some linen pieces.  We still haven't gotten the money back (though it is supposedly en route, after many hours on the phone...usual bureaucracies).

Two weeks later, les soldes began and everything we bought was 1/2 off. So I bought ANOTHER pair of slouchy pants and some scarves. Miss Em arrived and we bought her some things too. She's been in Serbia longer than anticipated and her clothing is in rags.

Our only other shopping was at a nearby market (rue de la Convention--not a fancy area). We got Miss Em a vegan bag  for 35 euros (how I hate that term) that closely approximated a leather bag she saw in Vienna that was 300 euros. The seller was the quintessential French man. He said to Miss Em (add heavy accent) "I would like to give you a kiss. Not a French kiss, because your parents are there." 

At the same market was a vendor where there were a zillion people. Miss Em and I investigated: Spanx! Miss Em and I joined the fray and got some bras for 10 euros (not sexy ones, comfy ones).

Then we started a fray of our own. In a big vat of assorted tee shirts (2 for 5 euros!), I spied a Majestic tee (these sell for around 90 euros). I started searching. A French woman behind me saw what I had and said to her companion: "Majestic!" Then they started frantically searching. Suddenly, we were surrounded.

Mr FS asked Miss Em what was going on. She said proudly "Mama started it." Miss Em decided she didn't like the Majestic so we put them back. 

I had a nice chat with two women at the market. The first was French: she practiced her English; I practiced my French. I asked her if one could bargain at the market. She said non. Then I spoke to a French-American woman who seemed to be a Spanx addict. She had an extremely-plastic-surgeried face, a rare sight in Paris--at least at the places I go. She also said that one could not bargain at the markets.

I had a nice encounter with the Spanx-guy. He was unsure if I knew the difference between HAUT (tops--10 euros) and BAS (bottoms--8 euros). He asked me in French and English. Then I said in my perfect English: "My English is better than my French." I followed with the same sentence in my faulty French and received many compliments.

Since the exchange rate was so good I did take a look at Longchamp le pliage bags (78 euros vs $150 back home, even cheaper on the ugly summer sale colors) but decided to get a lower cost per wear on the one I already own.

That's it! There are ecstatic posts all over the internet on how cheap Hermes and other luxury brands are for US travelers now. Still, the thought of schlepping back a bunch of stuff gives me pause. I find shopping abroad a stressful activity in any case. Besides, I always want to start saving for the one really big ticket item on my list: plane fare for the next trip.

Do you shop when you travel?

My First Trip to Hermes: What I Wore

Sooooooo, after our rejection at the Louvre, we were walking along, taking in the chic passersby and the beautiful windows. There we were on rue de Sevres. Where there is a Hermes (or AN Hermes, if I pronounce properly).

The window was unimpressive, featuring terrazzo tile (?) with keys and other objects embedded in it, but right near the door there was a table with brochures for a design event: for a week in June a number of shops participate in "7 Jours" of Design. I went to pick up a brochure.

The elegant doorman swept open the door and we were swept in. Oops! Well, I've always wanted to see the decor because that particular shop was built on the former site of a hotel swimming pool.

We walked around. Then the scarf lady gestured that I should come over. OK. I looked at a few scarves, but said I needed to wait for my daughter's opinion (which is true; she is always right).

This is what I was wearing: a cardigan (which I had taken off because it was hot), a tank top, dusty sandals, and my Eileen Fisher harem pants (the only remotely nice thing I had on). Oh yeah: my accessories. A junky scarf (how embarrassing!) and a tiny stained Vera Bradley purse that had been discarded by Miss Em in junior high (I use it as a wallet when I travel).

Mr FS looked about the same.

We were more scruffy than usual because we were wearing some of the clothes we had flown in--the day before. We had yet to get some duds to tide us over while waiting for our delayed luggage.

Even so, the scarf lady was charming and welcoming.

I must say I was relieved by the whole experience. I find the scarves absolutely gorgeous, but otherwise, I was not filled with desire for the merchandise. Phew!

Miss Em came to visit two weeks later. She didn't want to help me pick out a scarf at Hermes, but she did help me pick one at Monoprix. Maybe next year.

First day in Paris: Mean Girl

My first full day in Paris began....miserably. Air France had lost our luggage and we hadn't yet gotten around to a Monoprix to get some needed items. We felt disheveled and dusty, more scruffy than usual. To cheer ourselves up, we decided to go to the Louvre: 2 weeks remained on the year membership we bought the previous year.

We were both pretty crabby because of jet-lag and so, a bit of miscommunication ensued. When we arrived, we only had Mr FS's card. We went to the office and Mr FS explained in French what had happened. 

And then we encountered our first bonafide French mean girl. She said that she couldn't look up the card. We explained that the previous year, Mr FS had LOST his card and the rep looked it up and replaced it. 

The rep said that was the procedure for lost cards. Forgotten cards were different. 

(?????)

Then the mean girl line. The rep said (this was all in French and even I could understand it!): "There's one way you can get into the Louvre today." LONG PAUSE. We looked hopeful. "Buy a ticket at the booth!" I swear she cackled. We got up to leave and didn't say anything. 

I think she was a bit embarrassed by her performance because she smiled rather sheepishly as we left.

We decided to walk around after that and somehow ended up in Hermes. No kidding.

P.S. Thanks to all for comments while we were away. My electronic devices were ill-performing and had teeny keyboards. So i could READ the comments even though I couldn't respond. Merci beaucoup!

I Heart Baby Wipes for the Traveler (and Duct Tape)

Does everyone already know this? I only thought of this last summer.

Our first purchase in Paris (after some food, of course) will be BABY WIPES!

Carry a few in a ziplock to wipe your sweaty brow, the back of your neck, and--MY FAVORITE--your sweaty feet.

They are amazingly restorative.

And, from Mr FS, DUCT TAPE. This can be hard to find when you need it. This serves many purposes, of course. We are mainly taking it for SHOE EMERGENCIES. In Chicago many years ago, my sandals fell apart. Disaster! I didn't want to buy new shoes because I am a well-known cheapwad and hate emergency purchases. Besides, I have troublesome feet, so I can't buy just anything.

Eventually, we spied a store that stocked those cheap Chinese Mary Janes, which saved the day. Now I always carry extra emergency shoes on walks. But we also carry the beloved DUCT TAPE.

Mr FS wraps some around a pencil. What can I say? He is a genius.

A technique for shopping your closet

I have a tendency to wear the same things over and over--a common affliction based on the well-known 80/20 Pareto Principle.

Well! I just packed for my trip (following the guidelines of the great Sue of unefemme). Hence, I perforce HAD to wear things that were not in my suitcase for my last few days at home. That was the "other" 80% Wow! I have a lot of nice things that have not made it to my desired "cost per wear." There's some space in my case, and I was tempted to add a couple of these "new" nice things. I resisted. Looking forward to the "new" pieces.

If there's a method here (and I'm sure I'm too lazy to follow it, unless forced to by the necessity of packing)  it would be to hide (for a while) your favorites and see if the results are agony (in which case say good-bye to the unfavored items) or, as in my case ecstasy (in which case wear them on your return).

People Watching in Paris: Frugal Hermes?

I've been reading over my little travel notebook. It's just one of those little 19 cent spiral jobs. I don't  do much shopping in Paris (I know: a crime against nature) but I do like to window shop and people watch. Sometimes I make note of what people are wearing. I like to observe how people communicate style and status. 

One fellow caught my attention not just last summer, but also the summer before. He is the proprietor of a shop that sells vintage midcentury modern furniture: you can spy various Eames pieces and the famous Egg chair through his window. He happened to step out for a cigarette as we were looking in the window. Both times he was wearing the exact same thing: a wrinkled black button down shirt and baggy faded jeans. His gray hair was unkempt. He did not have the narrow physique of the stereotypical Parisian in a fancy neighborhood. Rather, he was stocky, with a big belly. He looked like the stereotypical guy at the market, dramatically wielding a knife and a piece of meat.

He was also wearing a prominent status item: a belt with a big H announcing its maker as Hermes. It occurred to me that the belt was actually a frugal purchase. He could wear it every day with his faded/wrinkled clothes and look upscale. His customers would, no doubt, recognize the belt and realize that his is a high end store. His "cost per wear" was probably less than one euro.

Such a belt would be wasted on me. My students would say "I thought your initial was E???!!!" 

But for Monsieur, the belt was a communicative part of his uniform. 

I'll be looking for Monsieur again this summer. His shop is somewhere near rue de Verneuil, where there are a lot of art galleries. Many people make a pilgrimage there to see the house owned by the family of the iconic Serge Gainsborough.

Museum Bargains in Paris and other Unicorns

As travelers, Mr FS and I are easy to please: we like museums, historic houses, and long, long walks. We live in one of the foodie capitals of the US, if not the world, so we don't sweat the restaurants. I already have too much stuff (and Mr FS gets hives if he goes into a store), so I don't do much shopping other than for food at markets. 

Here's a reminder  about a little-known museum bargain. At least we didn't know about it till last year. First, we discovered the Louvre membership for "professionals" like teachers. That is 35 euros per person. Luckily, the one we got last year still will have almost two weeks on it when we return!

However, anyone can get a membership. It's 80 euros for a duo/family. Even for a short stay, that breaks even (close) at 3 visits for two. With a membership, you can avoid the line for tickets! You can also use a special member's entrance, which, in typical gallic fashion, has never been open--maybe once.

Psychologically, the membership enables you (at least us--we're cheap) to go for several short visits rather than one LONG visit. If you're willing to skip the Mona Lisa and the awful crowds in that room, you can go to some of the less visited parts. Mr FS and I fell in love with Chardin last year. The room was almost empty. (Note: the bathrooms in the underpopulated areas are usually line-free and have toilet paper!)

There's also the well-known Paris museum pass. You can buy it at any museum or at the bookstore fnac. I think we only did this once. Since we like to stay at museums for a long time, it's not a good bet for us. If you like shortish visits, it's good. Another advantage is that if you go to a DUD museum (Victor Hugo was a dud for us), you can leave quickly without guilt or remorse. You might want to visit anyway since it's in the beautiful Place des Vosges. You can also avoid some lines.

Many Paris museums are free on the first Sunday of the month. For the first time, we will be able to partake. Mr FS has already mapped out a route: Picasso, Pompidou/Beaubourg, and a few others.

Our best museum deal: last summer we stayed in a miserable TINY room whose saving grace was that it was near the Cluny. We were only there a few nights waiting for our regular place to be free. Not only was the room tiny, but it was filled with the owner's stuff: mostly massive quantities of linens, arranged in rainbow order. He also mirrored most of the walls in weird ways. (His larger apartment next door was similarly mirrored--including mirrors on the ceiling over the bed and on the surrounding walls-- and piled high with neatly folded stuff). I didn't realize how stressful the space was till we went to our next lodging: I fell asleep for several hours upon arrival. 

The Cluny, home of the gorgeous Unicorn tapestries. We wandered over, planning to buy a museum pass. The Cluny was free, owing to some issue with a strike or trains or something! We spent the morning there and then returned after lunch. The next morning, we returned and it was still free! So we did a very thorough job taking in the rooms we had not spent a lot of time in.

When we walked by the next day, we peeked in and things were up and running. We had other plans but we wanted to see how long the free days were in effect. We went in. Why? Because the Cluny has an accessible bathroom. Keep an eye out for those in Paris. They are sometimes as elusive as unicorns.

Paris Shopping Plans: Not Very Exciting

Last year Mr FS and I met up with Miss Em in Belgrade, where she had spent a year. We were charged with bringing some of her stuff home. That made any shopping plans really simple: we couldn't buy anything. We needed every bit of space for her things.

This year, we have a bit more leeway. Miss Em will, I hope, be able to rendezvous with us in Paris. Our tiny apartment sleeps three. She will probably give us some things to bring back. We will bring her some make-up requested by her friends. It is a testament to...well, something..that her friends want makeup by ELF, Wet n Wild, and NYC, all extremely inexpensive drugstore brands. Everything on their wish lists came to under $30. 

Still, even though I know we can bring back a few things, I am ambivalent. Europe is not the shopper's paradise for Americans that it used to be. No need to lug home a Le Creuset pot. It costs the same in the USA. (I already own several Le Creuset pots). Besides, after about a week of post-grade-turn-in going through my stuff, I am, as always appalled by the accumulation. I am, perhaps foolishly, going in reverse of the famous Konmari method: I am putting things away before embarking on a  declutter. 

So here's my list. It is as humble in its way as the make-up list. I am lucky that it is humble by choice; Miss Em's Serbian friends crave consumer goods that are simply unavailable to them. 

1. Frugal Son likes little notebooks. Where better to get some than in Europe where the pages are graph paper? My plan is to get some at Muji while Mr FS is waiting on line for the famous falafels at L'As du Fallafel in the Marais.

2. To improve my French, which has been on the wane since I left the wonderful M. Giordano and M. Moore (how did these two non-native speakers leave me with an accent that has been complimented over the years? Merci, fellas), I peruse the Monoprix site. Now whenever I actually go to Monoprix I find myself quite underwhelmed by the quality, so I usually don't buy much of anything there. Mr FS buys food in the basement while I look around upstairs. 

Two items are on my radar. Five years ago, I bought a pair of black leggings in the Nantes Monoprix. They have served me well but are starting to get holes. I will wear them on the plane and swap them out for a new pair for 13 euros.

The site also features some black sarouel  pants, which to my eye look quite a bit like the famous Eileen Fisher slouchy pants that I am too cheap to buy. They are about 20 euros. 

Of course, cheapwad that I am, I will test my luck and wait for the sales, which start on June 24. 

Why is my list not longer? The most expensive part of the trip is the flight. When we get there, I start plotting our next trip. So I put the stuff I don't buy in my virtual savings account, where it can go toward a plane ticket.  Of course, there's always a chance I may succumb to temptation. I'm always tempted by a Longchamp handbag. Every year, I say I'll buy one next year. That's why I have to go back.

We Heart McDonalds (France only!)

While in France, we don't scoff at McDonalds. In the US we enter a McDonalds perhaps once every three years or so. Make that five years. In Paris though....we are more frequent frequenters. 

In fact, another tip is that as you meander along the streets, keep an eye out for the nearest McDo. Pourquoi? Three reasons: 

1. One euro coffee. Sometimes you don't WANT to sit in a cafe for an hour. The coffee is surprisingly acceptable.

2. Bathrooms with toilet paper. 

3. Free wi-fi (pronounced wee-fee). This is not as critical an issue as it was a few years ago, when our rentals were sometimes without wi-fi. Now many parks have free wi-fi also. 

And guess what? Most of the customers are "real" French people (mostly teenagers) and not tourists. 

Caffeine, Chocolate Cookies, and Toilet Paper: Tips for Travelers

More of my humble--very humble--tips. I am a caffeine addict. In Nantes five years ago I had a wee meltdown. We stopped for some mediocre espresso to revive me (Mr FS has a lot of stamina so I drank most of his).

Next time I was on the verge, Mr FS whipped out a surprise: a small baggie of instant coffee. He mixed some in an empty water bottle with the water we always carry and, you know, it was pretty good. It averted the meltdown. He is a genius.

We refined the lifesaver by adding some of the schoolboy (petit ecolier)  cookies you find all over France.* These are a chocolate topped square cookie embossed  with a schoolboy. Caffeine plus a hit of that dark chocolate. Instant revival. 

We sometimes eat them in a quiet corner of the Louvre, breaking the rules. SHHHHH.

Speaking of the Louvre, we always carry some toilet paper. Even in that august institution, one often finds empty toilet paper rolls. Last year, an American woman peered in the stall and lamented the fact that there was NO TOILET PAPER. I gave her some of my stash. She was very admiring of my savvy. 

The gray bathrooms in the streets are often similarly paper-less. Miss Em and I once improved international relations by handing some tp to a Russian woman who spoke no English or French. We also prevented her from entering as we exited, thereby saving her the shock of being sprayed with water by the automatic cleaning. Her rather scary looking male companion got kind of angry at us, but we managed to explain with gestures why she needed to let the door close. 

So my lifesavers are instant coffee, schoolboy cookies, and toilet paper. 

And a question: why is it that in the US the default color for toilet paper is white while in France it is pink? 

*Newsflash! You can get the cookies at Walmart and on Amazon! I don't think I want to eat them outside of France. 

Dribs and Drabs: Packing for a Trip to Paris and Beyond

I have many big things to think about, the main one being whether I want a now-valuable vacation house when my mother is no more.  My brother does not want it. This simple little house is now worth a good bit--more than a good bit for someone like me--and I am unsure if I can handle the expenses.

Then, like many in my age group, I have to think about retirement: how, what, when, where.

I am one of those little things people. All my savings come not from making super choices in my investments or earning a lot of money but from saving a dollar here, a dollar there on the (too) many consumer goods that come into my life.

To take my mind off the big questions, which are filling me with anxiety, I am thinking about little tiny things that will make my trip to Europe (soon!) a little easier and a little more frugal.

1. One of those under-clothing pouches. We have been using these for years. They cost around $10 at LL Bean. We have been approached by scammers (fake deaf people, the fake gold ring trick) and fondled by people in crowded metros. No worries! We have our pouches! And yes, your tummy pooches out a little, but--guess what?--no one is looking at you.

2. Pantiliners. Aside from their regular uses, I just learned that you can put these in your shoes to absorb sweat! What a great idea.

3. Stick deodorant. I also learned that you can rub cheapo stick deodorant on your feet to prevent rubbing. That way you don't have to buy blister sticks (which are 99% vegetable shortening).

4. Make-Up. I am very low maintenance (i.e. lazy) in the grand scheme of womanhood. Nevertheless, I have amassed many lipsticks and foundations that are 80% used up. All the declutter experts say: throw 'em out. Frugal Me is reluctant to let even some wax and coloring die in vain, so I am putting them in my travel luggage. I will use 'em up in Europe. And, hey, if they have to die in vain, at least they will be in the Eurozone.

5. Books. Mr FS has solved his reading problem. He brings Walden every year and never reads it. I read it last time. I have amassed--thanks to the 25 cent books at the library--a bunch of classics (Austen, Graham Greene, Dickens)  in tiny formats and very bedraggled condition. These are due for re-reading. i will pass them on by stacking them on TOP of the garbage cans so others can take them--this is the Parisian way.

Do you have any tips for dribs and drabs?

Good Price for Longchamp Bags: FYI

Last year, I had the goal of buying a little iconic something for my 60th birthday. After all, there's not much benefit at this point in practicing super-frugality. So my second goal for now and the rest of my life is to loosen up on the frugality. Unfortunately, I never got around to picking out my iconic something. Another birthday has passed.

Miss Em--still in Belgrade--emailed us recently and told me to buy a Longchamp bag given the recent drop in the Euro. Good idea Miss Em! A Longchamp bag is a good starter iconic piece: it IS iconic and it is NOT SUPER EXPENSIVE. That was my planned for treat in June, when we will be heading to Paris.

Today, I got a sale announcement from a place called "What She Buys," with notice of a 40% off sale on selected Longchamp. Readers, I got a Le Pliage. Not only was it already on sale, but was an additional 40% off. The 40% off alone brings the price down to only a teeny bit higher than the Paris price.

After I checked out, I was given a "referral code." If you buy using the code, I will get 500 points and you will get 100 points. The points don't seem tremendously valuable, but hey, better than nothing I guess.

There are lots of bags available. You may have to call to get the 40% off link/selection.  I linked through the email. I think this is a very short special.

Free shipping too.

I think I'm going to keep a list of my "be less frugal" accomplishments. It's hard to break ingrained habits.

Never Again: A Story to Read

Last summer, my family met up in Belgrade. Miss Em had been teaching English on a Fulbright in Novi Pazar , Serbia. It was an emotional trip for me. My mother and her family had passed through Belgrade in 1938 on their way to the United States from Vienna. In Belgrade lived one of my grandmother's sisters, who had married a Serbian man, Nicky Petrovic.

We met one of our few relatives there: Ildi Ivanji, the widow of my mother's first cousin George. Amazingly, she still  lives in the same house once owned by Nicky and Julchi Petrovic (my grandmother's sister). Though somewhat decrepit, it is an elegant home with still elegant furniture.

 Ildi is in her 80s. She had a distinguished career as a journalist and writer. She was imprisoned  in two concentration camps as a child, Terezin, which had a large population of artists and children, 90% of whom died there, and Bergen-Belsen, where Anne Frank died. Her parents--both doctors--were shot by the Nazis in mass killings.

 Ildi's brother Ivan Ivanji, also survived the war. He too was in two concentration camps. He is quite a distinguished writer and was Tito's translator. 

We met Ivan and his wife at Ildi's house. Communication was difficult because he speaks German and a number of East European languages, but not much English or French, the languages of our family. 

Ivan is a survivor of Auschwitz, whose liberation is being commemorated today. Little of his writing has been translated into English. I found only a very short piece, which is autobiographical. It doesn't read like a translation and is both beautiful and painful to read. Please read Games on the Banks of the Danube.

In a Belgrade Cemetery

Two summers ago, Mr FS and I went to Vienna, where my mother was born in 1930.  Last summer, we went to Belgrade, where my mother and her parents (and other family members) stayed (1938) before emigrating to the United States.

A most moving part of our journey: a visit to a cemetery in Belgrade.

Image courtesy of my daughter. See her Tumblr for more travel illustrations or her website for more.

Some Snippets of Our Balkan Journey Last Summer: Immensities and Little Things

I've mentioned that Mr FS and I met up with Miss Em (and, briefly. Frugal Son) in the Balkans last summer. I feel like a Henry James heroine when I say that the experience was immense. But it was. Some of the immense emotional response comes from the region's history. As with 9/11 in the United States, everyone who was alive during the recent genocidal conflicts remembers what happened.

Part of the immense response for also comes from my encounter with a bit of my family's journey from another genocidal conflict to safety in the United States. A stay in Belgrade was a step on that journey and I was at last able to meet the surviving member of my family (a cousin's widow) and to stay in the very house that provided shelter for seven members of my family, including two who are still alive, my mother Renee and her cousin Herbert.

Some day I will write of more of this journey, including a surprisingly moving (though why it was surprising I don't know) visit to the grave of my great-grandmother, which she shares with her daughter, my grandmother's sister.

If our whole visit was as emotionally thrilling/draining as the above summary suggests, I would have been prostrate on a couch for the whole time. However, as Mr FS always says (I think this is from his beloved Proust), the trivialities are as meaningful as the big things. I haven't posted on the little things either.

But guess what? Miss Em--home for 2 months before a return trip to Serbia--has, in addition to helping me declutter, resumed her charming drawings. The last four or so are from the time of our visit.

True to the Balkan experience, half the drawings (so far) are of food. Check out her Snippets if you  have a chance.

Venturing Outside Your Demographic: In CDG Airport

I have to confess that I sometimes feel ill at ease when I am out of my demographic. 

As my readers no doubt know, I have been pining for an Hermes scarf for a few years. Since I intend to buy only one, and the choices--both new and used- are immense, I have had a hard time choosing. When I was in Paris and Brussels last summer, I did not venture into any stores. I was mostly content with window shopping. I did wander into a perfume store and when the salesperson, in a totally normal French way, asked me if she could help, my French, which I had upgraded via Duolingo practice, instantly evaporated and I fled to Mr FS, waiting on the sidewalk (he hates stores).

Mr FS and I had a 5 hour wait in CDG Airport in Paris. The international section has a spate of luxe stores which are so crowded with shoppers that one really doesn't feel uncomfortable as a browser. I wandered into the Hermes shop to look at the scarves. There was another browser peering into the case with me. The single employee was busy with a chic couple who were--I think--speaking Japanese. The woman was wearing a black and white tweed Chanel jacket, a gorgeous coordinating scarf; she carried an alligator Hermes bag. The effect was totally elegant. Still, she was wearing stuff that cost more than I make in a year. She and her husband, who also wore understated and very elegant clothing, though none identifiable by me, left with several giant bags of new purchases.

This time I didn't flee, but all I could think was: this is not my demographic. Why am I here? Having had a glimpse of beauty, I wandered out and sprayed on some perfume at another shop. I returned to the waiting area and let Mr FS have his turn at a walk. 

Just wondering: do you enjoy venturing outside your demographic? Are you attracted by such shops or uncomfortable? (Image from Retail Design Blog)

BEST handbag for travel: I'm not kidding

BEST TRAVEL HANDBAG EVER: a totally fortuitous discovery.

I am no longer a very devoted blog-writer, but my devoted readers may recall my trip to Chicago last spring. Mr FS and I went to a conference and in our off-time decided to focus on the Art Institute of Chicago. So we bought a membership.

Besides the art, the best thing about the membership was the lounge, which provided respite from the crowds and also provided very good coffee. We also got a tote bag.

The tote bag is plain: black on one side, it proclaims Art Institute of Chicago in white letters on the other side. It also has Member printed on it. The handles are a good length, suitable for shoulder AND hand carrying (unlike the iconic LL Bean tote, where you have to choose one or the other).

It is of lightish-weight canvas and has a coating inside that makes it waterproof. Zip top.  It has a tiny zip compartment where you can put your absolute necessities (for me, a credit card, a lipstick, and some dental floss).

I took the tote on our trip as a backup (haha) and ended up using it every day. Not only is it lightweight and aesthetically pleasing, but it is socioeconomically ambiguous. I have never bought anything emblazoned with a logo, but this particular logo has--i think--an interesting effect.

It is clearly an inexpensive tote, yet it proclaims affiliation with a cultural institution. Most handbags nowadays proclaim their cost, sad but true. Two summers ago I saw several women in Paris holding big Hermes bags across their chests. Truly, the effect was like holding a giant price tag.

My bag could take me anywhere. Was I a penurious artist? a philanthropist? I could be anything. The zip top would foil pickpockets, but would anyone in that line of work be attracted to a cheap tote anyway? I don't think so.

That logo though:  it gives the bag that certain cultured je ne sais quoi. I could even wear it to Hermes. Though I didn't.

My Six-Week "Shopping Fast"

Because Mr FS and I limit ourselves to a single bag, we buy very little when we travel. This last trip, we bought NOTHING. Part of our mission was to arrive in Serbia with our single bag (which could be a carry-on) and each leave with a big suitcase full of Miss Em's stuff, mostly books and sketchbooks. Mission Accomplished.

Even though I only took a small carry-on, I STILL brought too much. Since we were on the road a lot, I looked at my single bag with horror. That made it easy not to shop: I wasn't even tempted.

Here's the thing though. I thought I would get home full of pent-up desire. 'Tis the season of sales and fall previews and catalogs. I also thought that Miss Em, in her early 20s and heretofore something of an over-accumulator of clothing, would be raring at the bit to shop. She went 9 months with almost no shopping (except for a few Eileen-Fisheresque linen tops she had made for her by a Muslim seamstress who usually only sews for women who wear the veil).  Oh yeah--she bought a few things at a thrift store in Novi Pazar, which is stocked with items sent from Germany and Switzerland and ordered a couple of items from American stores which were in her room when she got back.

When we got home last week, we were horrified by what was in our (smallish) closets. Miss Em promptly took charge, filling a big suitcase with donations, snapping a few pics and listing items on Tradesy, making a huge bag of goodies for the Buffalo Exchange, and giving me much of the stuff she had worn in Serbia, since she was totally sick of it.

We even took a trip to Goodwill (when we donated). After a few hugs for me from the employees, we looked around in a rather diffident fashion--and fled.

I don't know how long this lack of shopping desire will last, but I'm really enjoying it. In my younger days, whenever I tried to "diet," I thought of nothing but food and probably ate more. I thought that the same would result from my "shopping fast." We shall see.

Has this ever happened to anyone else?

In case anyone is wondering

I am back from a most amazing journey. Beginning in Brussels and Paris, then on to the Balkans: Serbia, Croatia, Bosnia. I can hardly begin to process what I experienced there.

And--while overcoming the jet lag from a 30 hour return trip--I finished the final volume of Proust. That too has been a journey--more than a year of reading, more than 4000 pages.

Thanks for commenting on the posts that appeared in my absence. Much appreciated, though I could only respond in my head.

One of the places we visited...