Hidden In France

How to look like a super model

The recipe is simple.  You  must be over five ten, you must weigh 110lb or under,  and lastly, you must be under the age 25.

Yes, this is a post about about body image.

Oh I see all your blogs with pages filled with diaphanous waifs wearing shreds of nothing at all and looking adorable.  I'm never tempted to post about clothes.  I'll post about armoires, I'll post about rugs, I'll post about muffins, whatever you like, but I can't get myself to post about clothes.  The reason is that I look terrible in them.

Clothes at my age are a sick joke.   I'm 44 (in just a few days),  5'1 and I weigh 122 lbs with 75 of it evenly distributed among my two butt cheeks.  That, my friends, is the WRONG recipe if you want to look like a supermodel.  It's also the wrong recipe to look good in ANY clothes.

I've stopped hoping to look good in clothes.  All I want now is to look good naked in bed. THAT I'm still trying to do. THAT, I'm still striving for. 

Those wonderful pinups I found via my favorite sexy blog From Betsy with Love, where I'm trying to learn that sexiness comes in many shapes and forms.  The paintings are by Rolf Armstrong, and you will find image credit on  Betsy's blog.  

A day of beauty

Today I treated myself to a day of self indulgence and spent $865 on just me.  I know, you're jealous.  And you should see the transformation:  when I look in the mirror, open my mouth wide and tilt my head all the way back I see... absolutely nothing.  Yep, that's right.  $865 on three fillings that make my teeth look exactly the same.  

Still jealous? 

The only thing left to do when you can't even feel your nose was to go on a shopping spree... at Trader Joe's to load up on groceries for the week.

But you know sometimes little things can make you feel so much better.  In the parking lot I was loading my bags into the truck of my car and a glass jar of salsa slipped off my groggy fingers and fell, ker-plump onto the pavement, and of course broke into a million sad pieces.

Being a good citizen I did not just drive away. I walked into the store and told the manager.  He asked me what it was that broke.  "Hunky fafa," I said. "I beg your pardon?"  he said. "I hag wok done on my teef, i'm sowwy."  "Oh, you mean chunky salsa?"  "Yef."

  

He turned on his feet and went deep into the store, and I walked miserably to my car.  Seconds later he had caught up with me and was handing me a new jar of hunky falfa.  I said, "no, no.. it waf my faut, i dwopped it". " You can have it, he told me, but only if you say chunky salsa three times fast." 

Silly, but after the indignities of sitting two hours in a dentist chair and spending such ridiculous, hard earned money on cavities, I was suddenly immensely grateful for Trader Joe's good management, human kindness and a replaced jar of salsa. 

I drove off with a smile on half of my face.

A house in brasil

The BEST week-end!  Home alone, watching reruns of The Matrix and Shindler's list ( ahem...and the Wedding Planner and New York housewives.. and much much worse...) Eating takeout exclusively while sill in my jammies at 3 in the afternoon.  Silence. Bad hygiene. Peace. Reading on the patio uninterrupted. No cooking, no cleaning, no f... 

Someone's idea of a lousy week-end can be someone else's eldorado.  

Speaking of Eldorado.  I was love struck my these images, this house, this color in a Brazilian house found in Sunrise Hossegor, the sunniest French blog of them all.  isn't this one amazing, and amazingly photographed house?  By Nathalie Krag via Tavern.

By the way.. I cancelled my Adsense account, so why is it on???

Do you want to advertise here?

I decided to cancel my google adsense and other affiliate programs.  I was getting majorly grossed out by images of yellow teeth, hemorrhoids medication or membership to the NRA on my pretty blog. It was out of control and, really, yuck, I'm not that hungry.

What I'd like to do instead is open my blog to you. What you have to offer; a blog, a website, a product, your art, is more likely to be what my readers are interested in and attracted to. 

It will be cheap as dirt, I promise, so send me an email at hiddeninfranceatgmaildotcom. (I can't write the real email because of spammers, another joy of the new technology.)

Here are some of the key words that land people on my site via search engines:  France, traveling, Japan, fabric, color, interior, design, decor, paintings, funny, french and flowers.  

If you want to increase your readership or sell your goodies, I can add a button to the left hand side of hidden in france in a jiffy.

(and if you still see that terrible ad bellow it's because I don't know why.)

Have a great week end!

in love with a blog

After my mean (but funny?) post of yesterday, I thought I should balance with blog love and beauty today, non?

I have  a new mondo-crush on a blog I discovered through Nadia of la porte rouge.  Nadia actually sent me a link to Mandarine d'Italie because she was sure it would be for me.  She knows me!

Mandarine D'italie is a pretty new lifestyle blog with a very distinct eye.  The blogger lives in London but owns a family home in the Veneto region of Italy, poor soul.  I happen to be smitten by all things italian, and reading her blog I practically fill my shoes with drool.  Here are just a few pictures.

For image credit, you will have to go through every page of Mandarine d'Italie.

The difference between Obama and Sarkozy

oh this is just WRONG of me.

Nothing personal against Sarkozy, of course, but it really made me laugh.  (Merci Carole.)

In defense of bloggers

A rant:

Ah the joys of blogging, the angst... Some of the people in my life simply don't get it. They read me, I know they do, but don't ever mention what they read or comment, or send an email.  Why? Does it make them feel uncomfortable? Does it make them feel like they are snooping?  To them I say: Don't cringe...Relaaax.  This is OPEN, guys.  There is nothing I write here that I'm not comfortable sharing. Or maybe my blogging makes them feel embarrassed for me, too much openness, too much revelations, too much... ego?  Or maybe it makes them angry?

See, bloggers get bloggers.  They get the urge and the get the drive. But I have come to believe that non  bloggers have a distaste for bloggers. We bug them/ scare them/ with our big mouths, our big opinions, our big ego... that word again.  

And there is no shutting us egomaniacs up now that there is this insane platform that encourages us to behave badly.

I thought I would share a paragraph from 'small is the new big' by Seth Godin, a fabulous book you must read. (i'm also listening to The big Moo also by Seth Godin and just finished Purple Cow.  It's been All Seth Godin, all the time these last few weeks.) 

Here is the extract: 

The other day my new fried Tucker told me that i was a massive egomaniac.  Aren't all bloggers?

What sort of ego do bloggers have?  We spend time and energy and money to post our opinions to the world, and we do it daily, or even hourly, often about topics on which we have no obvious authority.{...} Egomaniacs, by the way, is the wrong word.  I think that blogging requires you to have a healthy respect for your opinions, as well as the generous desire to share them with others.  That's not a negative trait; if you don't respect your opinions, who will?  And if you don't share the ideas you value, you're being selfish, aren't you?"

Yeahhh, Seth.  You tell' em!

I think that self-expression is the most beautiful of treasures. Those who do not partake are missing out on so much.  Those who fear self-expression in others need to realize that there is no such thing as too much freedom of the mind, and they should try it sometime.

The artwork, so beautiful is by Georgina Vinsun, via Another Shade of Grey.

My turquoise and yellow house

I've been meaning to post a few pictures of my house redone for spring.  No big purchases, just pulling things out of boxes.  I like to do that periodically to trick myself into thinking I just moved to a brand new house.  I gathered a few paintings and put them around the one ugly-yet-dramatic turquoise and yellow portrait I found in a now defunct antique store. 

I spent $70 on this portrait about a year ago and got two other BETTER paintings as bonus. I could not believe my good fortune. When I arrived home triumphantly the kids winced and the husband declared the painting horrific. Suddenly I was confused.  Was the painting genius or the worst thing ever painted?  Could it be both?  

So I put the painting in a corner and the people of the house little by little began to forget its existence. Now thanks to the faculty men have to look right through anything that is not brand new, the painting has ever so slowly but ever so surely crept to the center of our life without anyone noticing.

I LOST my yellow curtain.  I look through the house and they are gone.  Has anyone seen them, this is too weird?  My new coffee table, is really my kid's old desk.  My brother in law is a god with a toolbelt and he cut the legs in no time.  We were very impressed.

I still want those purple couches out of my life but they won't leave.

My book-less bookshelf.  S and M happen to be the only two letters leftover when I found them at Urban Outfitter.

This is what I see from my bedroom window. Le sigh.  Summer is near!

For the aspiring troglodyte

If this was a book or a movie, the pitch would go something like this: "A Year in Provence meets Hole meets my Big Fat Greek Wedding: a couple living a fast paced life in the corporate world falls in love with a greek village, and starts digging."

Some people dream bigger than others. I'm always inspired by those who make things happen in life. This blog I see as a step by step to a dream come true via guts, imagination and backbreaking work. For this Australian family, the dream was not a white picket fence, the dream was to live in a cave in one of the most beautiful village in the world.

The blog follows the family's relocation to Greece, their quest for the perfect cave house in Oia Santorini and the ensuing remodel ...mostly by donkey's back.(and I though our remodel was difficult.)

Here is what Michael wrote to me: 

"The building season starts end of November (when tourist season ends) and finishes in March. This means that in a short period of time you have to try and get things done, weather permitting. The cliff of Oia is not your "normal" building site either. In any other place in the world it would be a sheer cliff - here its prime real-estate. The narrow pathways and steps make it impossible to bring or cart away building materials with anything other than a mule.

 When you start digging a cave the dirt - known here as "aspa", which as really volcanic ash compressed - expands on a 3:1 ratio...which means if you dig 3 cubic meters you end up with 9 cubic meters of dirt...and all that has to be put in bags and carted away by mule.  

You can see all the amazing pictures and follow the journey on the Oia Santorini blog, 

mommy dearest

The day started well but turned into me having a copious meltdown which I had not seen coming.. but you had maybe since I have been complaining about the kids out of school and not being able to write. 

I need balance, and balance for me means me alone with my thoughts for at least five hours a day. I know that's a bratty thing to say because so few have the luxury of creation, but the reality is, I'm a creature of thoughts.  In the real world I get shaken easily, I'm way too reactive.

What amazing images by Denise boomkens.

Via Krisatomic.

Not without my make-up.

I'm thrilled about this, Eva Herzogova, Ines de la Fressange, Sophie Marceau, Chiara Mastroianni (daughter of Catherine Deneuve and Marcello Mastroianni) Anne Parillaud (The original Femme Nikita), Monica Belluci  and Charlotte Rampling, all women well above 30, dared appear on the cover of French Elle without makeup or retouching; wrinkles, puffy eyes and rednesse included.  

Anne Parillaud, 48.

 

I'm eating this up. It's a beautiful thing. Of course they were photographed by Peter Lindbergh no less. Of course these are some of the most beautiful women in the world and of course they are fabulous, but still, what courage.

But not what inspiration.  Sorry, no can't do.

Chiara Mastroianni, 36.

Eva Herzigova, 36.

Charlotte Rampling, 63.

Ines de la Fressange, 51

Sophie Marceau, 42

See this doesn't inspire me to go make-up free in the name of courage. I don't wear much make up, no foundation or anything but I ALWAYS put on mascara and lipstick.  My own children don't know what my real lip color is. (it's beige.. shhh)  It's just that I am so blahhr and pale.  I look sickly without make-up.  

In fact, whenever I find myself out of the house without lipstick and mascara, (I think it happened once during the 1992 LA earthquake. People were running out of their houses naked in the middle of the night, i swear to you I'm not exaggerating, or almost not, I don't care what they say about staying put under a door way, you can't help but feel the whole house is falling on your head and you'll soon be trapped under tons of rubble, so what you do is you grab your baby and run the f%#@ out of there. And if it's the middle of the night and you sleep in the nude, then you run out of your house naked but I digress) 

Well in the very rare occasion when I must be out of the house without make-up I immediately grab a tissue and act as though I have the flu just in case I meet anyone.

note: I realize my story doesn't hold.  Obviously my naked neighbor who is running out of his house holding his baby is not going to stop and ask my naked self holding my own baby why I did not wear make-up or if I might possibly have the flu as the ground is cracking beneath our feet. 

But you do get the point I'm trying to convey, and the point is that... wait, I forgot... 

...Oh yes: something about the rarity of seeing non-photoshopped celebrities on the cover of Elle?

Monica Bellucci, 44 (my age in one month) performing a poor man's facial on herself and who can blame her under the circumstances.  Maybe I should try that trick next time there is an earthquake.  Maybe people will say, poor thing, having a headache during an earthquake... but she looked so YOUNG!

All this via ballibulle. 

A mom's day

Whose clever idea was it to enroll my kids in two separate school districts, one with a Spring break last week and the other this week?  My productivity went from promising to nil.  No blogging, no writing, but plenty of trips to the grocery store, a lot of back breaking picking up of socks and a whole lot of cooking.  This must be the glamorous writer's life I had imagined for myself.  At this moment my 16 year-old and 'a friend' of the long blonde hair category are watching Clockwork Orange in MY room, on MY bed.  Had it been a boy I would have kicked them out of the room but this is uncharted territory so I've taken refuge at my ten year old's computer between the legos and claymation creature. What's next?  Is she staying for dinner?  

Okay. They're done.  The movie was declared pretentious and not remotely as good as the book and what's for dinner. Having neither read the book nor seen the movie I feel suddenly old and out of touch. I'm going to make dinner, pick up a few socks and stuff one in my mouth.

Happy Easter to you

I hope it is chocolatey, gooey and creative like this one:  

 

via the Daily Dish. 

My name is corine and I'm a blogholic

Okay, blogging is officially my drug. I'm experiencing withdrawal from my self-imposed restriction so before I go into seizures I say the hell with it.  This episode of Corine's self-indulgent justification for going on with the addiction brought to you by the amazing Australian artist (omg! LOVE HIM!!) Chris Chun

Here is what I think, the only way I can sustain working alone on long terms projects such as the great American novel or other projects that might never see the outside of my hard drive; writing that might never be published (or will be posthumously, god forbid--no, no don't worry, a dramatic staged death in order to get recognition is not in the plans) ...is to blog.  

When I blog I am loose and silly, I am at play.  When I write I'm a perfectionist, a control freak given to bouts of self flagellation alternating with self aggrandizement followed by self loathing. I assure you it's exhausting.

Blogging keeps me connected and keeps me sane.   The pretty visuals are much needed rest from the dullness of wikipedia design (yep, sorry to disappoint, that's were I get most of my facts.)

YOU read ME and I miss that thrill.  It's miracle enough and I don't want to rock this precious equilibrium for fear you'll move on to read shinier and more deserving blogs.  I need my fix of blogging love, and I need it daily.

Blogging is truly a restful activity, a freeing activity.  It's better than sex (or as good as) to clear the synapses after working on something ignominiously introspective where I rarely come out clean.

Okay, so did I convince you?  Will you be my enabler?

The Chris Chun's website is here and there is much more you're going to fall off your chair.

I discovered him via the fantastic Hiccupings, one of my favorite kid's blog.

Yümmÿ!!!

Here is what Keltainnen Talo Rannalla had to say about the following images by photographer Polly Wredford: "Räntäpäivään piristystä."  What?  And what are all those pretty dots for?  I could not agree more and can only assume it means 'yummy' in Finnish.  What a debauchery of gorgeous images.

By the way, I'm still not here.  This is NOT blogging. This is just me already exhausted from my kids not having their spring breaks at the same time, and me deciding to immerse myself into research on a topic I know (knew) nothing about while my ten year old and two of his friends are running wildly through the house.  I'm still not reading your blogs for a few more days, please forgive me.  I love ya'll!

Productivity. Now.

You know how sometimes you read EXACTLY what you needed to read. Now Leo Babauta of zen habits is someone I listen to.  And in the next few weeks, I need to do what he says.

I need to set aside time to work on the draft of a new project; something ridiculously ambitious that starts in Smyrna in the late 1900s during the fifth cholera pandemic. I've been waking up in the middle of the night with brilliant ideas on how to tackle this and I've started on the research. The way I am I need to do ALL the research and immerse myself until I'm speaking in tongues and beginning to exhibit advanced signs of cholera myself (great for weight loss.) But now is the time to commit all this energy onto paper and discover if it leads somewhere or if it's only a delusions brought on by the imaginary dehydration.

I need to make time where there is none,and the only thing I can think of cutting on is my blog reading and commenting.  Way too much pretty stuff and mental distraction.  Would you promise to hold off on giving birth to anything too exciting until I can read you again?

Okay?  Pretty please?

Un Coeur tres nature

Virtually or not, here i come!  This is a 'maison d'hôtes'  in the region of the Guard (never visited, but MUST) called Un Coeur très Nature.  the last image being super familiar I think it's been all over the web for years.  But how dreamy is this?  You can spend a week end for two there for 150 Euros.  A week for 500.  

What am I waiting for?  Honestly I'm wondering. The first image is being pinned to my inspiration board as we speak.  What you don't have an inspiration board?  I'm working on mine.  I've been reading a LOT of self help books and they all say the same thing: surround yourself with images of what you want to have manifested in your life and your unconscious/subconscious/conscious will all work in synergy to make it become a reality.  Okay, no harm in trying. I'll keep you posted.

I found the link via a blog called my favorite and best (via Isabelle, thanks isa.) the blogger made me laugh, she is constantly threatening to slap, punch, lift and toss around celebrities whose style she disapprove of.  You go girl!

Kaleidoscope jewelry

My favorite kind of jewelry would be something made out of candy, nougat or guimauve.  A close second choice would be to have it made out embroidered felt. 

I love EVERYTHING in kaleidoscope's collection on Etsy. 

More felted jewelry, I also love those of studio karma.