Marrakesh: and a tale of New Year's at Peacock Pavilions boutique hotel

Ah, it was New Year's eve at Peacock Pavilions and so we got to cooking.

There was Danish cheese with dried apricot in a bed of organic honey.

And a whole salmon that barely fit into the oven. {And foie gras with onion confit, risotto with shitake mushrooms, roasted leeks, fennel salad, and chocolate fondant.}

I set the table in the Peacock Pavilions dining tent. { Don't the Moroccan tea glasses on hammered silver trays look so pretty?}

A can of golden spray paint came in handy when stenciling the table with Moroccan-inspired stencils from Royal Design Studio. There were golden votives and golden placemats.  White roses went into black and gold Moroccan tea tins.

Girls in sparkly outfits were there.

As were handsome boys who spoke and laughed in several languages.......

And even best friends who had come from across the ocean.....

We ate....

 and ate......

and listened to and told stories....

until it was midnight. 

Happy 2012, Lovelies........... 

Marrakesh: and a tale of a new year of new adventures

Dear friends,

Here's wishing you a new year filled with adventures in far off lands (or even adventures close to home).

Here's wishing you color......

intrigue.....

mystery....

and fascinating conversations with people different from you....

And here's wishing you thinking outside the box because, really, we're too old to keep doing the same old things, the same old ways.  

This is the year.  Yes, this is the year............

And lastly, here's wishing you a Moroccan holiday..........

                            at the very least inside your head.  

Happy New Year from Marrakesh:-)

    Love,

    Maryam

Steven Meisel for Vogue Italia.

The Chloé Vivian Tote: a tale of my mother and a new bag

Growing up my mother always looked immaculate.  Not in a princess-y sort of way but in a it's-so-much-nicer-to-look-put-together sort of way. Persian, she eschewed the conspicuous consumption for which Iranians were stereotypically known, and never liked her labels to show.  But she cared about her appearance and was fastidious in what she wore.  While other mothers came to school to fetch their children wearing just about anything, my mother was always dressed.  Always discreet, always elegant, always ladylike.  Her waist was tiny, her clothes were tailored, her hair was in place.  

I, on the other hand, was not immaculate.  There was my skateboarding phase, complete with knees covered in bandaids, and then there was my too-much-eyeliner phase, accompanied by an unbridled passion for Jim Morrison T shirts.  Suffice it to say that neither were good looks.  

As I have grown older my taste in fashion has continued to evolve and, I hope, improve.  For the last decade or two, I've had a penchant for clothing and accessories with an exotic flair or a slightly rocker edge. But these days I find myself gravitating towards things that are simpler, cleaner and a bit more structured.  In a wardrobe purge that left me breathless, this Fall I gave away no less than 125 pieces of clothing. Left in my closet is less color and pattern, but more items that actually work together{what a concept}. 

A Christmas present to myself:  the Chloé Vivian Tote.  White and porcelain leather, matte gold hardware.  For six months of warm Marrakesh weather and sized for a lap top. 

I think my mother would approve.  

Marrakesh: and a tale of a holiday breakfast

Here's hoping your holidays are filled with simple but really good things.  

On Christmas morning in Marrakesh we made fruit salad and served it in pretty dishes.

There was Coffee cake and baked French toast, made the night before and popped in the oven in the morning. Doled out with a sterling silver server from Iran

Freshly squeezed juice -- a mix of orange and mandarin -- in Moroccan tea glasses. And whipped cream for the coffee cake and french toast.

Merry Christmas from Marrakesh:-)

PS I won first place in the photography contest at the international development firm where I work for a photo I took in Mali. Such a nice Christmas present for me:-)