Marrakech: and a tale of a Moroccan ethnic chic Thanksgiving, African-style

So it was Thanksgiving and we were in Morocco, of course.  And rather than let the holiday slip away, leaving us with yet a more tenuous thread to the country from which we came............. we chose to celebrate with 20 friends and family.   

Our Thanksgiving theme was the Wilds of Africa.  {Because Morocco is in Africa, despite popularly confused opinion.}

This is a tale of how it went........  

We got to decorating the Arabian tent at Peacock Pavilions.  We gathered some of our crazy African loot.  

African stools and old beads

Animal skulls and bones.....

 A batik length of cloth from Mali, antlers, strands of African pods. 

African antiquities, namecards with African porcupine quills.

Objects dressed up to look their African best........

A herd of antelopes and old bauxite beads.

Bunches or yellow roses in vintage Ethiopian tole containers.  Gazelle horns.

 Antique Tuareg nomadic bags and olive branches hung in the air. 

Shiny Amy-- helping out at Peacock Pavilions for two months--took to the African madness with gusto.  

 And it all ended up looking like this....

We put out the horn and abalone serving utensils. 

 And the glimmery dishes.......

The menu was masterminded by Peacock Pavilions very own Michelle, with a 30 pound turkey sourced by the Four Seasons Marrakech and cooked by our friend, Kimo. 

 We filled our plates.

And we dug in.

 Most importantly, we went around the table, and each of us gave thanks, large and small........

We ate and ate and gave more and more thanks......until some literally passed out......

Happy Thanksgiving.  Today and every day. 

Cairo: and a tale of lives in the Khan el Khalili

It's always the same. I'm in the Khan el Khalili in Cairo.  I pass the jewelry stores with their strands of shiny new gold. 

 I then walk by the vendors of belly dancer costumes. 

 And say no thank you to the men selling the copper pots.

 And smile at the vendors of spices and dried hibiscus flowers and tell them I'll be back another day.

Because the only stores I go into are those filled with old junk.

Or perhaps it's treasure.  Yes, treasure.

I'm looking for the images of those who lived long before.  Some known. Others nameless.  

I'll buy that one, I say.  And that one and that one.   I'll buy their memories in the Khan el Khalili.

Never forgotten.  No, no, never forgotten.

Morocco: and a tale of tribal jewelry

I have always admired those fine chains, those delicate bands, those feminine studs.  I have always thought pretty, pretty at the single diamond solitaire twinkling at the hollow of the neck.  I recognize the light-as-a-feather bangle paired with the watch, and understand the demure pearls clasped on the ears.  So discreet, so elegant, so mother-approved.  Evidence of sweet avowals of love on appropriate occasions.  Lovely, lovely. 

 Yes, I have always admired that approach.  Always.  

 But as for me…that is another matter altogether.  

The piles of bracelets, the multiple rings, the earrings that reach my shoulders.  The talismans, the amulets, the gris-gris purchased in Turkish boutiques or Yemeni outposts or in Lao online shops.  The chunky, the tribal, the mysterious.  That’s what I wear.  Yes, that’s what I wear every day.  

 

Some of my favorite ethnic chic jewellers: 

* Oriyjn

* Bouvier

* Jewels 

Check out more of my large stash of jewelry here.  And see how I store my jewelry here and here.  

PS Tell me the tales of your jewelry. I'd love to hear. 

Marrakech: and a tale of Peacock Pavilions and nomadic chic

How would you define your style? Somebody asked me that question this week. I replied, nomadic chic or modern tribal.  

Here are a few snapshots around my place, Peacock Pavilions in Marrakesh.

A grouping of old African stools around a sculpture bought in Nepal.

A collection of hands of Fatima custom-made by Caroline Douglas and her students for Peacock Pavilions.

A Moroccan mosque sculpture in front of a vintage Moroccan photo.

A collection of Moroccan pottery, some with Arabic calligraphy.  Deer purchased in India.

 A beaded goat bought in South Africa, in front of a set of antique Tibetan spice boxes.

An old bracelet bought in Afghanistan, nestled in hand beaded African baskets.

Gazelle horns bought in the Marrakech souks, along with a vintage tin of Egyptian cigarettes and an old Afghan bejeweled earring.

Antique Santo from the Philippines hanging around with African masks.  Whale ribs to the fore.

PS Want some bohemian chic of your own?  Visit Red Thread Souk for one of a kind tribal textiles.  Or come to Peacock Pavilions B&B in Marrakech and shop, shop, shop for cool nomadic loot ...........  I'd love to meet you here:-)