Garance Doré

collage

family album

You have to see the look on my mother’s face when I open the chest of old family photos.  She’ll do what she calls, “sealing the premisses” and not a single picture will be allowed to leave the house.  The place gets more protected than a Balenciaga runway show.  Maybe it’s because over the years, while I was making inspiration boards with my mother’s and grandmother’s old outfits, putting every photo where they wore a nice little something or other.  The thing is, I might have, just maybe, well.. lost a few… and just maybe some of the best ones.

No worries.  There are still plenty left for every visit to the family house.  I’ve found myself here for a brief pause.

My mother in the 70s.  That little peaking head the bottom, that’s me!

Ha, umm… So I didn’t tell you, and really, it wasn’t at all planned.  Friday, I suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that I needed to go give hugs to my family and eat some sea urchins.  I jumped in a plane and a few hours later, touched down in Corsica.

Over two cups of tea and 37 white wine canistrellis, my sisters, my mother and I all opened up together the box of treasures.  You could definitely say that in this family, we definitely have some love for sailor outfits.  I gotta believe it was my papa who started that trend. Ahaha.

You could definitely also say that summer time in the 70s meant it was okay to wear nothing at all.  Just a towel, mom, really?  And then even from time to time, apparently it was okay to really wear nothing at all, but perhaps we’ll keep those to ourselves.

And then I heard for the 678th time that back in the day, my grandmother was, “the most beautiful woman in Ajaccio.”  Your grandma was too, no?  The important part here is to put together your own personal family myth, at least I think so.

Ouais, family albums.  Always great, always full of laughter and warmth.  But hold onto those old photos and don’t go losing them as I did.  Serious though, heed that warning.

Translation : Tim Padraic Sullivan

2009…

Et voilà. The same thing aaaaaaaalways happens. Never fails.

We travel light and end up with excess baggage.
We eat light and then, discover the original source of banana-pecan cake..
We bring along our laptops only to forget them, including our running shoes. There, there.

We come home smiling and rested, with shiny and seemingly coiffed hair. We feel good. Never mind if the heavy consumption of banana-pecan shows up in our figures. We even learn a new expression to describe the effect of continously packing on those extra pounds.

The muffin-top —happens when we put on our jeans and flab spills around the waistband. Lesson of the day actually makes us smarter. Yummy ;-)

We decide to start the year right. New year, clean slate. What an opportune time to begin anew: have an active and healthy lifestyle, put everything in order and aspire for perfection each day. To the point that we begin to talk like Carla Bruni. We buy the same Moleskine journal, (yet again, though the wider kind), writing as neatly as we can and holding our breath the whole time…

Day 2 comes, everything’s back to how it was before:

Hellish frenzy, never enough time and…oh, merde! My nail polish sticks to my magazine once again.

Like before, just like before…At the end of the day, it’s rather amusing. So I wish you all a super-amazing new year full of half-baked resolutions, unsuccessful diets, fashion faux-pas and unrealistic plans.

Well, what? Two days ago, I was in a tee, watching the snow fall in the desert on a sunny day, without a slice of banana-pecan in my hand. No piece of cake, I tell you. But there’s your proof that everything’s possible.

In any case, I missed you, my dears! Gros bisou, a demain!

Translation : Magali Eva Suárez.

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Garance Doré

I began my blog in June, 2006. I was an illustrator and growing frustrated – with the type of work I was getting, yes, but mostly frustrated because I wasn’t really connecting with the readers of the magazines I was working for. I wanted to do something a little more free, more spontaneous. I had ...

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