place les vosges – Lavender's Blue

Lavender’s Blue Opera + Selfridges London

Postcode Lottery

It’s our anniversary. Time to celebrate. Christmas – with a little help from Selfridges’ luxury handmade Celebration Crackers – came early to Lavender’s Blue. We’re looking fresh for our 100th and not worn out at all by 1,000,000 hits. After 99 articles from Serbian Royalty to British Royalty, Savannah to nirvana, Cristal to crystal, the falls to the Shankill, Royal Mint to polo minted, Edition to limited edition, Masterpiece to masterpieces, Duck + Waffle to our usual waffle, Knights at home to nights abroad, Clive Christian to Christ Church, Goodwood to New Forest, rural Darlings to society darlings, earls to pearls, supermodels to super models, Futurism to the past, we’ve left Home House for home. Party central at Lavender’s Blue.

Classically trained soprano Sara Llewellyn serenaded us – and half the postcode – to a dream like performance on our courtyard terrace. After earning her Masters with Distinction from the San Fran Conservatory of Music, Sara’s many operatic lead roles include Susanna in The Marriage of Figaro at Berkeley. And yes, she has performed at the Royal Opera House. After jaw dropping renditions of Bach’s Ave Maria, O Mio Babbino Caro and Con Te Partirò, the tempo slowed down and the sun shone for an awe inspiring Summertime. Sara then proved her diversity while testing our moves with I Could Have Danced All Night. Tear jerkers followed with I Dreamed A Dream and You’ll Never Walk Alone. Finally, words and music at the ready, altogether now: the full Team Lavender Cupcake impromptu choir belted out That’s Amore. The whole postcode was entertained to our new take on Dean Martin’s classic. ~~Glyndebourne~~ SW4 had competition.

Victor Hugo + Place Les Vosges Paris

French Disconnection

Everything sounds better in French. But when the Garllic nation attempts English, sometimes all is lost in translation. Take a stroll through Le Marais, try not to smirk as you pass a shop unromantically named ‘I Do Marriage, Be Sweet’ on Rue Beaubourg or ‘Hello, I Love You, Can You Tell Me Your Name?’ on alliterative Boulevard Beaumarchais. Bewildering, dazing, confusing. No lines to learn to forget to read between. Maybe this is where Cecilia Ahern gets inspiration for the titles of her doorstopper potboilers. Stopping a few doors down on Boulevard Beaumarchais, the grammatically challenged ‘Restaurant Loving Hut’ conjures up all sorts of scenarios. An amorous small structure with a fondness for eating places, perhaps? Qu’est-ce que c’est?

Time to chill in 17th century Place Les Vosges, grab a coffee under the arches at Café Hugo. Everybody’s changing; some places stay the same. Parisians are so friendly. C’est quoi? In the sandy square, children, substitute pets, hang from climbing frames like miserable uncaged monkeys. Better not seen not heard but they’re far enough away. Disconnect. Seats, lovers populate. Paris can’t wait. Tucked away in an unforgotten corner of Place Les Vosges, the apartment where Victor Hugo penned the Hunchback of Notre Dame, rooms wallpapered to within a square inch of their dead lives. He’s gone, the wallpaper’s still there. An empty Edouard Vuillard interior brought to life. No doubt in part thanks to said conquering author, a queue snakes out of la cathédrale, slithering round the statue of Charlemagne. Skedaddle; head for the queueless Saint Gervais et Saint Protais, near yet far from the clueless maddening crowd, hifalutin, lording it above the City Hall. Get a high in a high church in a high church. No usurpers of grace. Experience multiple epiphanies. Peerless chanting fills the nave. As we said, everything sounds better in French.

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