Cairo: a tale or Egyptian parable of Azza Fahmy's sublime jewelry

Oh, things might be confused and dark in Egypt.  But at Azza Fahmy........there is only beauty and light.

There is no Arab Winter here.....only eternally blooming Arab Spring.........

worn as a reminder.........on the finger. 

At Azza Fahmy, intolerance and fear are always better replaced by acceptance and generosity. 

There is no careless looting and burning, no not here.  Only careful preservation.

....down to the last detail.

And there are certainly no grey regrets about things that have gone terribly astray.  Only a multi-faceted reminder..........  

of a great people with a great history.

But perhaps the true national treasure is Azza Fahmy, herself.  

A point of clarity and optimism in a place struggling to right itself. {Please, let it right itself soon.}

Azza Fahmy

Cairo, Alexandria, London, Dubai, Doha, Manama, Amman (and other places where fine jewelery is sold)

Marrakesh: and a tale of mothers and sewing

It was so long ago but how could I ever forget?  The burlwood of the sewing machine gleamed, like a treasured possession.   And there she was -- perched on the edge of a chair, her slender back as straight as a ballerina's. The pins in her mouth, the fabric in her hands, the spool standing at the ready.  

And then her foot pumped the pedal and the machine whirred, alive.  

No patterns were too complicated.  The tucks, the pleats, the ruching.  She did her own variations, riffing a slimmer sleeve, inventing a longer cuff, creating a placket where none had been before.  

Into the night, deep into the night.  I could hear the whirring -- a lullaby-- from my room.

My dresses were the prettiest.  I wore one - a delicate French lace - to my senior dance.   I wore another --a fine Belgian linen -- to my graduation.  I was never embarrassed.  Ever.  

Where ever did you get that dress? they asked.

My mother made it, I replied.  

Marrakesh: and a tale of Zid Zid designer Julie Klear's birthday

It was a special day, a surprise birthday party kind of day.  So I wore some jeweled sandals and headed over to Delphine Warin & Souhail Tazi's Marrakesh house.

(Delphine and Souhail's house is filled with cozy treasures.)

We were all waiting for birthday girl Julie Klear to arrive so we could jump out and shriek Happy Birthday!  (Ahem, that's exactly what we did).

Julie was so surprised.  She recovered in the garden with her husband Moulay and with a sugar rimmed hibiscus flower cocktail that we brought from Peacock Pavilions.  

Souhail had made a warming birthday meal and we tucked in on the terrace!  (From the left, French lighting designer Laurence Landon, Me, Lise of Palm Pilates, and Julie.)

And of course there was birthday cake that husband Moulay had snuck in.

Served on the perfect plates!

 

It began to grow chilly and more layers were added.  Some in the group got creative, for example, with this live puppy hat.

 The party moved inside and there was some raucous birthday drinking and dancing! 

Julie, you're a girl who always has a star shining overhead, no matter where you are!

Marrakech: and a tale of a Moroccan birthday party

Can I have a Fairy Berry Party? she asked.  

I'm sure that can be arranged, I responded.  

Would you like to dress up as fairies? I asked.

Of course not, she said.   Because I want to invite a boy to my party, too, and everyone knows that boys don't like to dress up as fairies.

{She seemed slightly exasperated at my line of questioning.}   

So what would you like to eat at your Fairy Berry Party? I queried.

She looked at me then and ever so patiently responded, Berries.  

{I clearly needed to go back to fairy school immediately to sharpen my analytical reasoning skills.}

And so it was.

There was raspberry crumble with whip cream

And fairy cupcakes.

And mixed berry smoothies in the prettiest lavender.

And there was all manner of games.  Including a treasure hunt.  The treasure was flower pots with seed packets.  {Fairies need comfortable places to sleep afterall.}

But mostly there was a little girl who had just turned 10.  

She still loved to blow bubbles.  

But I couldn't help but think as I watched the bubbles float away that they were just like the years. {After all, it was just yesterday that she was just a tiny girl, wasn't it?}  

Yes, bubbles floating fast fast away.