She sat next to me in the audience of the Caftan 2013. Impossibly slim. Diamonds on her fingers and wrist. Her Gucci coat folded neatly in her lap. Her hair falling like a river to her waist. She leaned towards me and said, That used to be me on that stage for the Caftan fashion shows.
Oh, I said. How did it feel, I asked?
Perfect, she said. And added, Of course.
I could only imagine...
Bewitching. Wouldn't you agree?
Under a shower of crystal chandeliers, they floated down the runway.
The Moroccan caftans.
Each embroidered. Each beaded. Each bejeweled. Each conjured up by one of Morocco's finest fashion designers. Painstakingly handmade in frenzies that took hundreds of hours.
I sat riveted. I sat enchanted. I sat, well, enspelled.
You see, I was overcome by sheer beauty.
Caftan 2013 was like the sublimest of dreams. The kind where you hoped you would never wake up.
And there's more......tomorrow.......
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The tickets to Morocco's biggest fashion show -- Caftan 2013 -- had been sold out for a year. Everyone, yes, everyone, was waiting for it to begin.
Today was the day.
Backstage, the anticipation was beginning to mount. There were the loveliest caftans -- Morocco's equivalent of evening wear -- waiting on hangers...
Amazing pieces of Moroccan haute couture, upwards of $5000.
Each caftan more stunning than the next.
The fabrics were sumptuous....
The detailing amazing...
The models -- lucky Arabian princesses for an evening -- began trying on their Moroccan caftans...
Their heels...towering....
Their accessories excessive....
On stage, future mannequins practiced their poses....
The doors to Marrakech's congressional palace then swung open. Oh!
The city's beautiful people had arrived.
Wearing bejeweled dresses.
There were kisses for the soon-to-be entertainment....
And bites of the canapes...
But then it was lights......
and action! The show was about to begin.....!
PS I'll be posting on Caftan 2013 all week -- truly one of the most exquisite and surprising events I've ever been to. Stay tuned or subscribe and don't miss a post.
Peacock Pavilions is a handmade place. In a long fit of craziness, it's all made by hand (right down to the cement pavers of the paths, for which we made molds, mixed the cement and poured on site). When I look around my home, I see a series of projects strung together, one memory after another. There are parts that are wonky and parts that are plain old not right. But like a homemade cake, it's still suprisingly delicious to me (especially with great whirls of frosting).
My dear friend Melanie Royals is in Marrakech for her annual decorative painting retreat at Peacock Pavilions with a group of very talented painters. This time, we've collaborated on something very special. Here's a little peek.
