My Marrakesh

Marrakech: and the Moroccan slipper or babouche

Oh, it may not be in the medical books, but mark these words:  sequins have curative powers. 

Preliminary findings from clinical studies currently underway in Marrakech demonstrate that sequins can be used to treat a wide variety of modern day ailments --  from crabby moods, to snapping unnecessarily at one's spouse, to sweating the small stuff. 

Never mind those paragons of good taste who poo-poo  sequins at every opportunity.  Indeed, the blogging girl had noticed that it was those very poo-poo-ers who seemed to suffer from high degrees of  irritability.  'Nuff said.

Although scientific advances had not yet allowed for the ingestion of sequins intravenously, other means of application seem to provide almost instant diminishment of problematic symptoms.  Particularly promising appears to be the wearing of sequinned babouches, or Moroccan slippers.  The only reported side effect is an accompanying giddy, light headed feeling. 

One six-year old tester, who had recently scraped her knee when riding her bike without training wheels, put on a pair of Moroccan slippers and immediately shrieked, ooooh, pretty, sparkly, princessy....!

A medical miracle. 

Applications of sequins via internet remain highly experimental of course.......

Psst, a gift of Moroccan slippers with every purchase of a sequined Moroccan wedding blanket.  A double whammy for those suffering from mild forms of depression.

Moroccan caftans: a tale of passion

She started collecting vintage caftans.  She liked to look at them, to stroke them, to admire their handiwork.....She wasn't the only one, it seemed...

Suzy Menkes talks with Pierre Berge about the exhibition "Une Passion Marocaine" at the Pierre Berge-Yves Saint Laurent Fondation in Paris.  On exhibit from March 14 to August 31. Thank you beautiful-karma Kaydee for the link.

P.S.  Lovely Richele from Richie Design clued me into Vivre's shopping picks inspired by Marrakech.  Check it out right here.

Anthropologie goes Marrakech native

Wowza.........Marrakech has *arrived.*  Marrakech is the setting for the March Anthropologie catalogue. ......Gorgeous tiles, lacy plasterwork, fabulous architecture......No wonder I moved to this  city..... 

 

Many thanks to the darling pinkybrown from fave blog Craving Anthropologie for letting me know. Do check her out.

Marrakech's Kasbek: and modern Moroccan chic

Well she knew Kasbek was special as soon as she saw the glamorous curtain and the stunning Moroccan tiled floor from Popham Design....

The boutique was small-ish but large enough to have  secrets hidden away in gauzy Mauritanian fabrics.

The special-est of all were the caftans.......The jersey ones were particularly slinky and body-conscious.

And the vintage caftans had her channeling her inner Talitha Getty....

There was fabulous ethnic jewelery to wear with your caftans (or, umm, your T-shirt and jeans). 

Oh, tribal baubles paired with a cinched, airy caftan.  So fresh and stylish.....

The lovely proprietress, Rebecca, an Australian painter, was woman-ing the fort.  The other half of Kasbek's duo, Kassie, was sipping mint tea in Tangier temporarily.

The blogging girl knew she'd be back.......to Kasbek....  Maybe you'd like to go, too?

Kasbek Marrakech Medina 216, rue Riad Zitoun Jdid +212 63775690 studio@kasbekaftans.com Open 7 days a week, 10-7

Kyrgyzstan: and fashion faux pas

Ah, that poor blogging girl. She meant well, you see.  So very earnest, with her borrowed black canvas down coat, with her flat, black sheepskin boots, with her practical Isotoner gloves, with her Hayden-Harnett travel bag.  Her hair tucked behind her ears, her little notebook and pencil at the ready. 

How would she have ever known?  How could she have ever known? ....that Bishkek was filled with fashionistas?  Striding gracefully through the snow in their high heeled black boots, in their snug wool trousers, in their fitted velvet jackets, with their artfully arranged scarves, with their chic and gleaming bags.  Their tasteful makeup perfectly applied, their glossy long locks immaculate under pleated wool cloches.

They gazed at her in sympathy.  She could almost hear them thinking:  Why, where ever could she be from in that frumpy clothing? Were those sledding boots she was wearing? Was there potential under those layers of fleece?  Was she here as the "before" candidate for a fashion makeover show?.....

Oh dear. 

Kyrgyzstan Fashion Week. Images by Kyrgyz blogger, Elena Skochilo.

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P.S.  Do click over to darling Lalla Lydia's blog for a touching entry on Jews in Morocco and North Africa.

Mid-life crisis or Egyptian fashion confusion?

Oh dear, I have a case of the blahs.  The fashions blahs, that is. Instead of waiting for a fashion makeover show to some how find me (A girl can dream, can't she?), I have decided to take matters into my own hands.  I may be middle aged, but surely there has got to be a way to still shake it.

So with that in mind, I thought I might share with you some possible Egyptian purchases and get your opinion.  Now don't be shy - just tell it to me straight.  Do you think any of these little numbers has my name written on it?

P.S. Who me? Teasing?

Morocco: and five year old Skylar's new shoes

Brand new, they felt a little stiff at first.  Almost like they weren’t hers.

She felt a bit shy about wearing them.  They were awfully shiny.

Bashful, she wondered, would anyone notice the pretty ribbons?

She hoped so. Because deep down inside, she loved them.  In fact, they made her feel almost giddy. 

Why, they were pretty enough to wear to a mint tea with a Moroccan princess.  Let’s try a little curtsey. 

Yes, come to think of it, they felt just right. 

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P.S. It's getting awfully warm here in Marrakesh. Do any of you have hot weather party suggestions? Sparkling cocktails? Cold buffet recipes....? Cool links?  Please help.....

Dior's Morocco-inspired fashion

The peacocks are not the only ones strutting their stuff tonight here in this little olive grove.  In fact, I am so proud, I feel like a Moroccan auntie.

Because while designer John Galliano's 2008 Cruise Collection for Christian Dior may have been sent down the runway in New York, its heart was in Marrakesh.  And you can just imagine how I feel about that. 

The Fashion Wire Daily described the Dior show in the following way:

The sounds of "Marrakesh Express" opened the show...and Galliano sent out a seemingly endless parade of souk looks injected with some serious glamour a la Talitha Getty, Swinging London's unofficial poster child for North African boho-chic and perennial fashion muse, starting with Yves Saint Laurent in the late 1960s.

If only, oh-if-only, I were in the front row, rubbing elbows with the celebrities.  Of course they would all be immaculately dressed (Eeek, what could I possibly wear?  And what about my unmanicured fingernails?).  But I would have been the one who lived in Marrakesh.  And that would have counted for something.  Right?

I must say, the collection is seriously fun with vibrant colors, enormous sunglasses, over sized paisley patterns, huge earrings, intricate embroidery, and bouffant hairdos.  The hair jewelery slays me. I love all the little Moroccan touches.  And if some of the designs border on the slightly kooky, frankly, that only makes me like it more. 

I always loved dress up as a little girl, if you must know....

See the full collection at Style.com.  Images by runway photographer Don Ashby.

Many thanks to my African blogger friend of the Anansi Chronicles for the heads up.

Marrakech: I fell in love with a Moroccan camel driver

While in the airport in Milan not too long ago, I was doing my usual - i.e. standing transfixed before the copiously filled magazine stand trying to decide which ones I would permit myself to buy.  The selection was nothing short of mesmerizing -- as you know, those Italians are not exactly known for being slouches. 

I was strangely drawn to an image of a woman on the cover of an Italian bridal magazine.  As a married woman for nearly a decade, it might seem a bit odd that I was looking at a bridal magazine.  But there was something about her....I couldn't quite put my finger on it.  It was like one of those terribly glamorous images from the 30s. 

I picked up the magazine, it weighed heavily in my hands.  The entire cover was embossed with a sort of intriguing pattern.  Only then did I see the tiny words, The ethnic issue, in script in red box.  I flipped through the pages and what did I find?  Why images set in my very own city of Marrakech.  When I looked at the cover again, I realized that embossed pattern was actually a Moroccan tile design.

The photos  - all 26 pages of them - were organized in such a way that they conveyed an untold story:  ostensibly the tale of a 6 foot tall Italian model who falls in love with a Moroccan camel driver.  You know, just the sort of thing that happens here every day.  Ho-hum.  The settings are gorgeous -- palm trees, tiled floors, fountains....  Everything that makes this city so beautiful.

I thought I would share a few of the lovely images with you.  They almost make me want to get married all over again.  To the same man, of course.  Now if only I could get him his camel driving credentials...

All images from the beautiful Sposa White, April 2007 issue.

Marrakech: Is it real? Or is it Memorex?

Have I told you that I am a deviant in my spare time?  Perhaps not -- that's not the sort of thing one shares in polite company.  But it's deviantART that's my downfall.  Now you know how I while away late night hours.... 

In my recent deviantART perusals I am across a series called Marrakech Times.  What I found so interesting about these photographs is that they were all taken in a bar in Buenos Aires, not in the city after which they were named.  And looking at the photos, I am convinced that they are the photographer's fantasy of Marrakech - something shaken or stirred in his head after a mojito or two (or three) late night in the bar. 

Although I can confirm that the teapot and tea glasses are Moroccan, the rest demonstrates the sometimes gaping divide between male fantasy and reality.... But then again, I suppose that's the beauty of fantasies in the first place.  Right?

So quick!  What's the first thing that pops into your mind when you think of Marrakech...?  Either real or Memorex...

Images by Hollowone, Benjamin Furland