The Theoretical Shopaholic

Neerrrrrrrrrds!

Also, I might need these. via dcwomenkickingass:

The French designer Andre just introduced a new line of shoes inspired by the women of DC Comics. We, of course, have Converse sneakers with Catwoman and, earlier, Wonder Woman. France steps up the chic factor with these.

They are not available online. I checked. And they are pretty pricey. Actually, very pricey. They start at around $177 for the flats.

Still want them.

Love this map from Herb Lester, illustrated by Lord Dunsby, called It’s Nice to Be Alone in Paris ($6). Isn’t it, though? Isn’t it really?

Plus the write-up is priceless:

In this map we select 32 things to do in the city of light, none of which involve sharing a bottle of wine, eating bread and cheese on the banks of the Seine, or wandering arm in arm with your loved one. In fact, loved ones do not figure at all, this is a guide for the solo traveler and our suggestions are all best enjoyed on your own – although incurable romantics may wish to bring their partners too, we won’t kick up a fuss.

Highlights include a taxidermist and vintage erotica shop. Definitely worth checking out the rest of their gorgeous and clever guidebooks and maps for cities including Glasgow, London and New York.

The only thing getting me through this sudden, severe cold is the set of 10 different honeys ($8) I bought in the Uzes market. Each tub is only about 2-3 tablespoons, but it’s really fascinating tasting them all as each one is monofloral (rather than blended). ‘Chataigne’ (chestnut) is dark and tart, almost bitter. ‘Tilleul’ (linden) is delicate and, so far, my favorite. They work, too, on the sore throat.

Did I mention I’m sort of obsessed with bees and beekeeping and want to hop on the urban apiary bandwagon next spring?

(Photo c/o Etsy vendor LunaChica – I’d buy that 1 lb honeycomb, only $12, if they shipped to Canada!)

Okay, okay, enough with all this frou frou-erie. Soon. I swear. I’ll be so practical and butch you’ll think you’re reading an L.L. Bean catalogue. But how adorable is La Biscuiterie? When I visited it in Sete in October the one-of-a-kind shop had just opened. Aside from oodles of madeleines, they make sweet and savoury ‘zézettes,’ cookies native to the area. They’re good for coffee and tea, but a bit dry for me, so I left with a very reasonably-sized bag of salty caramels (about 8€).

Did I make it to Maison de la Truffe while in Uzès? You bet I did. Did I indulge in theory or in reality? Just ask my truffle salt, truffle oil, truffle aperatif (will report back once I’ve tried it) or even my Laguiole truffle knife (okay, it’s a mushroom knife, which makes it slightly more convenient in this North American climate). I stopped just short of buying special pellets used to train truffle hounds. Schnoods is going to have to learn to sit on command before we take start her gourmet food-finding lessons.

The truffle salt is actually quite overwhelming. I put it in a cupboard and its scent is pretty much taking over, which is heaven for me but not quite a hit with B. But where else can I put it (other than on every omelet and pasta dish I make)?

Next up in the ‘Oh my, our little girl is turning into a real *sniff* little lady!’ category: my first visit to La Durée. It’s a testament to the famous French luxury brand’s design that I was immediately captivated by its delicate, gilded green boxes and light-as-air macarons… all amid boarding announcements and international chatter. I left with a single tin of their house blend La Durée tea, which is a mix of black tea, bergamot, rose petals and all sorts of other lovely things that make it smell and taste lovely (not, as one might presume, like some sort of drinkable perfume).

On my (even more) recent trip to London I came across a lovely set-up of theirs inside of Harrods, with a full tea-and-macaron menu, but passed it up in favour of more exploring aka shopping. Plus I figured if I was going to go for fancy tea in London, why make it a French brand?

When did I turn into my grandma, exactly? I don’t know. But I was going gaga over lavender my whole trip to France. So fresh, so pure, so much better at deodorizing my smelly kitchen garbage can than anything sold at the grocery store.

Rather than a pretty bundle I settled for a couple of sachets in classic regional textiles, and it’s a good thing, too, as the Canadian border agent wrote ‘salt’ and ‘cookies’ all across my landing card after I informed him what I’d brought over.

Salt? Really? And it wasn’t even salt, it was fleur de sel, salt’s rarer, subtler sister. Hmph. There’s more chance of me harbouring a communicable disease on the bottom of my shoes.

I was an atheist baby (aren’t we all?), so I never really bought the idea of heaven or any sort of personal afterlife. It never made me sad, just more intent on finding happiness and savouring pleasurable things whenever possible.

If only someone had told me that heaven exists, and it’s called La Cure Gourmande. I discovered the floor-to-ceiling candy shop while on a recent trip to the quaint town of Uzes in the south of France and, after some initial hyperventilating, bought some ‘Olives au chocolat’ (8 €). I really wanted to get a stack of pink- or yellow-and-gold boxes but, as during much of my trip, had to remind myself that my current decor is mid-century modern, not Marie Antoinette’s boudoir.

As it turns out, the shop is part of a chain, a chain that offers franchises. So if one opens up in Montreal, come find me. I’ll likely be somewhere in back, gobbling up my profits.

All the fancy French things I bought (and resisted) coming soon, I swear.

In the meantime, here is something form my new favourite Etsy shop, Pink Baby Mouse. Though I strive not to become that woman – you know, the one who has to have [her breed of dog] everything (or, alternately, the one who swears she likes the first [her breed of dog]-related present she gets, condemning herself to getting them the rest of her life – this conehead dachshund pillow ($40) is darned cute and totally matches my home’s motif.

Who the heck indulges in truffles before a short break to the South of France?

Me. Duh. I bought a few frozen black truffles from local ‘shroom shop Mycoboutique the other night, only to lose them a few hours later. I wailed and cried and gnashed my teeth, ony to find they’d hidden themselves behind some foie gras in the freezer. Oh. Phew. Sorry for the tantrum, B.

As I understand it the region I’m heading to is rich with history, art architecture, etc. but I’ve got one stop in mind and it’s Maison de la Truffe (there’s a similarly indulgent site of the same name in Paris, no relation). So all in all, I’ve really got my priorities in order and the world in perspective!