"Madeline Vionnet: Puriste de la Mode"

I’m sitting on the steps of the Pantheon to sketch, but it’s a little too windy and all my paper keeps flying everywhere. Regardless, I’m hoping to make this my new designated work area because it’s about a thousand times better than the prison cell-dorm room. I really should be productive, but I don’t feel like it!

Me and my view from the steps of the Pantheon...note the Eiffel Tower way in the background. It's windy!

Any second now, it may or may not downpour on me. I never know here when it’s going to be 85 degrees and sunny (and the metro is going to be a box of sweaty French people who live on ham and cheese and have never heard of deodorant) or when it will be rainy and windy, causing my dress to billow up over my head Marilyn Monroe-style – this occurred pretty much non-stop yesterday. Thank god I had on cute underwear. I also have to add that the other night, my bright idea for a gelato run caught me in a hailstorm/flash flood. It was sort of scary but sort of fun! Fun aside from the imminent thread of being knocked out by a massive chunk of ice. I had my gelato as I waited under a taxi stand covering, so I was good to go.

I’m getting some much needed alone time this morning. I’m feeling a desperate desire for space from the group. Roommate and one of the girls down the hall are not enjoying Paris at all, and it’s driving me a bit mad. Every tiny thing that strays from American norms is a source of stress for them, from the language barrier to the food, and the negative attitude is annoying to say the least. And, neither of them coming from metropolitan areas, they complain constantly about the metro, the amount of walking, and the distanced, not-quite-warm attitude of a lot of the Parisians on the street. I, for one, love it! I don’t think we all need to be ecstatic about every nuance of the French lifestyle, but why did they spend thousands of dollars to come here if they want everything to be American? I’m sorry, it just baffles me! To sum up my point about all this, yesterday, over a lunch replete with flavors foreign to our American palettes, roommate goes, “Ugh, I can’t wait to go home to go to Cheesecake Factory.” I almost spit out my foie gras. Cheesecake Factory?!?! Eh?? She’s that girl who runs all over Paris in search of a Starbucks, passing a million quaint and charming cafes on the way. I let that one slide, but Cheesecake Factory? I enjoy my fat-man chain restaurants as much as the next person, but come on! I pretty much can’t speak when I’m around her because every word out of her mouth reflects an opinion that’s the diametrical opposite of my own. I wish you could see me – I sit there counting backwards in my head to restrain myself from expressing my frustration. It’s sort of funny actually, me being so taciturn ;)

Anyhoosie, this fun lunch was after seeing the Madeline Vionnet exhibit at Les Arts Decoratifs. A lot of people have never heard of her as her name is not well known outside of the fashion world, but learning about her was incredibly moving for me (partly due to the reverent and passionate way the museum curator spoke of her). She was from a very poor family in France, and began her apprenticeship as a seamstress at age 11. Just like a dancer trains her muscles form a young age, Vionnet learned from childhood how to use her hands expertly for the art of dressmaking. The story of how she worked like a slave throughout her lifetime to feed her love for the beauty of clothing touched me. She revolutionized women’s fashion with her use of the bias cut, and her dresses were handmade down to every detail – she wove her own fabrics (rather than going to a textile maker) and plucked out threads with a tweezer in order to create patterns in velvet (today there is a chemical to burn away the velvet to achieve this look).


She said about her work. “In truth, can one create easily? In my opinion, I think not, and I believe that the creative process is arduous and almost always thankless. A true creation is necessarily and naturally laborious: whoever creates must labor and suffer.” I admire Vionnet greatly for this simple idea of toiling endlessly for her passion for innovation and creation. Even through the present, there has never been such a talented and adroit couturier because of her shrewd techniques of sewing, draping, and working with fabrics so skillfully. I know this is cheesy, but I almost cried when the curator discussed Vionnet’s intellectual drive and curiosity for this art; for the desire to create and for the love of a woman’s natural beauty expressed through a beautifully made dress. Unfortunately, her career was brief due to having to close her atelier at the onset of WWII, but she lived a long life. In her old age, she said, “I am happy with what I have done. I’ve fulfilled myself completely.” To me, this is amazing.

I wanted to share how uplifting this learning experience has been for me. I feel like a different person, as if my advertising job was another lifetime. I know that what Vionnet says is true, that good work is never easy and must come from labor and some amount of suffering, but to do what one loves is… I don’t know, I can’t even explain it. This whole thing (the class, the learning, the fashion) is wonderful to me. I’m having a tough time with my persisted apathy and emptiness from my somewhat subconscious mourning for Kiran, waiting for my full range of emotion to return, but I can recognize in a detached sort of way that I am happy and that I am at peace in a way that I have not been in a very long time. I hope I can continue this work after the trip ends… it is home to me… finally :)

A tout a l’heure!
La Petite Babu

First Weekend and Other Stories

La Petite Babu is actually surviving week deux of fashion boot camp. Things are still pretty intense, but since tonight I actually happen to NOT have a thousand hours of homework, I'm feeling pretty good - and I had two crepes and a Kir (which I love, because it reminds me of my little Bay Wee), so I think that's helping me out a bit too ;)

I've decided to try to tailor this program to best fit my needs (i.e. not always do all of the homework) because I'm dying. Parisian weekend #1 was none all too exciting due to the fact that I was getting sick - surprise, I was first to surrender to the fate of illness in a faraway land because of busting my ass harder than I did in my four years at Duke - and due to the fact that people were being LAME. Let me explain. Things started off well with a class excursion on Friday to see a fashion exhibit at Le Musee National de la Marine, where we basically saw traditional sailor wear, how this style was carried over to daily life, and ultimately, couture designs that were inspired by the marine look. It was fabulous! The designs were elegant but also fun, and I am really enjoying learning about inspiration behind a creation and what qualifies as a cohesive yet diverse collection. And as always, we were encouraged to sketch the pieces that inspired us or caught our eye. Some of my personal favorites were from Jean-Charles de Castelbajac RTW Spring 2008, Tsumori Chisato RTW Spring 2006, and Givenchy Couture Spring 2007.





After the museum we did our first shopping report. Don’t be fooled by the name; this is just market research. Part of our homework each weekend is to go to Avenue Montagne and peruse the designer shops and sketch a few different pieces. We are of course forbidden by salespeople to do any such thing (I got yelled at for holding my sketchpad), so we’re supposed to practice our photographic memory and then leave the store and get the details down as fast as possible. Some of the necessary information is of course design, but also fabric, color palette, price, and the location in the store. Aside from the fact that it was glaringly obvious that none of us belonged in Chanel, Gucci, Chloe, Dolce & Gabbana, and Versace, overall the first shopping day went well :) In Dolce & Gabbana, I chose to sketch this sequin/silk/lace/tulle confection, so I was staring at it for about ten minutes and picking the saleswoman’s brain about the fabrics, when finally she asked if I’d like to try it on. My response: “Oh, no (laughing a little)... I mean yes! YES!” And so I did. It was too big, but fun to wear for about 2.5 minutes, and now I am going to try something on everywhere I go. YIPEEE!

It was after the “shopping” day that I realized my body was giving in on me. Which meant no fun for Petite Babu :( I went out briefly on Saturday night to Kong (Sex and the City anyone?) with a girl in my class, Valerie, but no one else I hang out with here wanted to go. They did laundry. So that brings me to one of my main issues here... What is up with people who just DON’T LIKE to go out? I mean, if you don’t want to drink yourself into oblivion and take your clothes off on ferris wheels and in restaurant kitchens like me, that’s completely fine and understandable. But to just not want to experience any type of nightlife at all is bizarre to me! Yummy cocktails. Pretty dresses. Fun music. Weird people. Booty shaking!! WHAT is not to love?? Ugh, I’m seriously so confused. Anywho, my Kate Petersen-esque roommate stayed in the dorm (ew) along with the two other girls we hang out with. “Hang out with” = walk to class and eat food with. I HAVE NO FRIENDS! So I guess I am what is traditionally considered a LOSER here. There is this self-proclaimed group of cool people on the program, you know, the kind who are already having bitchy girl drama amongst themselves and think that just having an attitude qualifies them as some type of social elite, even at Parsons Summer Intensive Studies in Paris. The only reason this matters to me, aside from some of the hilarious things about them (I’ll get to that), is because they actually go out! I think I’ll have to chug a bottle of champagne alone in my nasty dorm room which has probably given me a disease. I’ll let you know how that turns out.

Okay, so about the people. I have put together a short summary of the important characters:

Meredith – Roommate. From Chicago, Texas, and now Florida. Very VANILLA. The type of person who asks if my family is very traditionally Indian, and then clarifies that by explaining that she knows an Indian family with a goat. When I mentioned Jamaal, she thought I was talking about some black guy on the floor below us. She has horses just like Kate! She wants to go to London this weekend “to get away from Paris.” Who wants to get AWAY from Paris??? Said that she wasn’t a Michael Jackson fan because he did bad things. Too much blah for me to handle.

Two girls down the hall “we” hang out with – Also don’t like to go out. Nuff said.

Harlow Von Bretheren – Design prodigy. 18 years old. Studying at the Instituto Managoni next year. Real name was Sarah Knoll and she changed it legally three weeks ago. When the teacher asked her if her name was Dutch, she said, “No, I made it up.”

Patricia – Utterly socially retarded, loud and obnoxious, unaware, ODD individual. The butt of all class jokes and is consistently teased by the mean girls, but likes any and all attention so chooses to play into it for the sake of laughs (although at her expense). A cause for serious pity but also intrigue from my end.

Amy – Regina George. Somehow decided that she is the queen bee. Clearly that’s not the case, since that would be, hmmm let’s see… ME :) She snickers all day at Patricia, and does the sort of overt bullying you thought you’d never see again after 6th grade. HOWEVER, she is plagued with a sad case of being a devoutly loyal slave to fashion. Normally I wouldn’t point this out, but since she sucks, I think it’s okay – the bottom half of her body weighs more than your entire body mass, which is not the problem, but she wears any type of up-your-butt shorts fathomable. It’s fairly obvious that she has some type of reverse body dysmorphic disorder. I love diagnosing people!

Vasilija (“Vasi”) – Drawing teacher. Consistently conjures Katina Ingabogovinanana in my mind. Always says that our illustrations need to be “delicious” and that her personal preference for the body of our croquis (sketches) is “anorexic.” So funny!

David – Design concepts teacher. I have to mention him because it wouldn’t be fair since I mentioned Katinka.

I think those are the main characters who I may reference later on. It’s probably clear that I am somewhat lonely on the whole, but maybe that’s good because I can focus instead of being a drunk American. Now I really have to go eat some gelato or something else fat. I’ll have more fun things to share soon woohooooo

Oh, and I’m doing really well here I think, especially for a beginner! My 60s inspired collection earned a good grade, and David says I have great conceptual design abilities. This weekend’s project is to design a collection as if I were working for Michael Kors – this is supposed to be my challenge as his clean, classic looks are apparently opposite of my design style. Oh homework ;)

Bisous <3

My Return! ... & Fashion Boot Camp

I'm back! I realize I've been away for quite some time, but since I only posted once, I guess it's more just that I'm starting now. I had intended to blog about the brutal and anxiety-ridden last months of my media strategy job, but things sort of took an unexpected turn for me... Kiran, known by most people as my cousin, but to me, a best friend, a sister (more like a twin), a confidante, a soul mate, the list goes on, passed away very suddenly on April 6th. My world fell apart... and I still am yet to grasp all the ways in which this statement is true. Unfortunately, I still do not, and may never, have the words to describe what this situation is for me. So, sorry to those who have shown your love and support and have sought out some type of communication; there are just not words in the English language - or in any language probably - to capture the emptiness, confusion, exhaustion, and abysmal despair that comes along with this loss. In fact, I truly believe that anyone who met her, or ever just heard her laugh (her laugh is what mostly comes back to me in my dreams), understands the magnitude of the loss. Still, our relationship was wholly unlike any I have ever known or even witnessed in the lives of others. Needless to say, the past months have been extremely trying.

Jamaal said to me, in the days after Kiran's passing, that looking back, I will see that I had one life before 26 and another life after 26. I am a different person now.

He was also the only person to ask me what would happen to the title of this blog when I turn 27, and I simply responded "Nothing," due to the fact that this was already set to be a big year of defining change for me. I guess that proved to be a true in other ways.


I really wanted to share that part of me... because it's actually all of me. However, I did pick up and continue with my plans. I had my last day of work two Fridays ago, and now I am in PARIS! A lot of people have been asking how things are going, so I feel the need to tell my story of how Paris is. It's been a few days, so excuse my long-winded recount of my first week's experience.

For those of you who do not know, I am doing a four-week program abroad with Parsons. It's an intensive study in fashion design and concepts, something I knew I'd love and which I thought might help in my plight to get my foot in the door of the fashion industry. All I can say at this point is that IT BETTER HELP. Because it is fashion boot camp. I know that sounds a bit dramatic, but let me expand on that. I was aware, coming into this, that I would have full days as we have six hours of class a day and they said to anticipate three hours of homework a night. THREE HOURS MY ASS. I've been getting four hours asleep a night because of the assignments. And trust me, this is not the fault of my embarrassing lack of experience - even the 18 year old fashion prodigy genius is up all night doing the homework. We are working through lunch (so to answer questions: no, I have not been enjoying French food as I do not have time to sit down and eat) and pretty much from the time we get back to the dorm - yes, dorm - in order to design a collection of 20 dresses in one night. I repeat, DESIGN (aka create out of my ass and then illustrate) 20 dresses in one night. As a refresher to anyone who is unfamiliar with my life, I haven't drawn something since Ms. Linville's class in, like, 4th grade. So yea, that's what we've been doing! WOOHOOO!

So now that I'm done with my bitterness about how my "Fashion in Paris" class should be called "Get Your Butt Whooped All Day Long by Art Teachers While Living in Shit Student Housing and NOT Seeing The City" class, I must now add that I love this! Okay, there are things I'm really struggling with... well, most things I am struggling with. But today I had this shining moment as we discussed famous designers of the 1900s and their iconic pieces when I felt so excited and happy that I am doing this. It's hard, but it's what I want. It's VERY hard, and I've almost had a breakdown twice in three days, but it's what I want! I am taking in so much and because, like I said, I have an embarrassing lack of experience, my learning curve is huge. And while my goal is not to be a couturier, the knowledge certainly feels relevant and is all stuff I honestly want to learn about. So, yes, I am loving this. I have no doubt that in two days or so, I'll be crying again, but that is yet to come!

A girl today asked me if I've considered quitting yet. I guess that meant she had. I said that I would never just quit because if it were that bad, then I'd just fail, and either way I'd have to leave the program. She responded by saying that she would rather quit something than fail at it. It was such a simple, nonchalant conversation, but I realized that I'd never quit this before failing. It's worth this grueling, stressful, totally-foreign-to-me try. I am happy about that :)

Okay, I have to go to bed because it's f-ing late. PS I think I scare my roommate when I use expletives eek. She reminds me of my freshman year roommate at Duke - does everyone remember the great Kate Petersen? That's a story for another day. I have lots of stories about the people here YAAAY! Now bed for me in the scary dorm room. Bon soir mes amis!