Letter From Paris
Paris Kiosque - July 2008 - Volume 15, Number 6
Copyright © 2008 Harriet Welty-Rochefort - Used with permission.
You know it because all of a sudden your phone is ringing off the hook
with calls from all the people you haven't seen all year
long who suddenly decide they MUST see you before they go off
for vacation.
You know it because you see English, Chinese, Japanese, Spanish and
American tourists (the ones not terrified by the disastrous exchange rate)
in les rues.
You know it because suddenly said rues are overrun with
hardhats doing road repairs reserved for the summer months (the lucky
Parisians escape ; those who remain in Paris have to contend with dust
and drilling).
You know it because you are writing a column like this on the shaded
terrace of the oh so chic Café Marly gazing out over the Pei
Pyramid, a cardboard cutout against a brilliant blue summer sky.
And you also know summer's here because the
Parisians are, if possible, in even a worse mood than usual. They hate
the heat in Paris and the beach beckons. Tangible irritability and
aggressiveness fill the air-especially the air in the metro, the bus and
public places in general.
Which is why, when stuffed into the metro like an anchovy in its tin, I find
myself daydreaming about being extremely rich. I'm no
longer in the metro but in a chauffered car. My driver stops me in front
of, say, Hermès, while I go on a spending spree. Then we speed back to
my mansion from which I see the Eiffel Tower night and day. My staff
waits on me hand and foot.
Ok, ok, it will never happen but I can dream. And fantasies like this sure
do help pass time in the metro.
If you too love to daydream and appreciate fairytales,
there's one good exhibition in Paris worth beating the
heat (or rain- after all, this is Paris) to see : « The Grace Kelly
Years » at the Hôtel de Ville (Paris City Hall). When you
enter, you can't help but notice a huge sign proclaiming
Grace « the Queen of Paris ». Why the Queen of Paris ?
Grace loved Paris and Paris « chic », first appearing in an
elegant promotional film in Paris for an American fashion house in 1949 ;
later she dazzled President Charles de Gaulle during her first official visit
to Paris. As her children grew, Grace spent more and more time in
Paris, the mecca of fashion and one of her favorite cities.
The exhibition has three things going for it : first of all,
it's free (which in these days of daunting inflation never
hurts) ; secondly, it's tastefully organized by
Fréderic Mitterrand, the cultivated nephew of late President
François Mitterrand; and thirdly, well, it makes you dream
because Grace Kelly's life, on the surface at least,
seemed to be a dream.
The exhibition, which runs from June 10 to August 16, traces the various
steps of Grace Kelly's life, from her comfortable
childhood in a well-to-do and larger than life Irish family in Philadelphia to
her career as an actress to her meeting and marrying Prince Rainier of
Monaco. Although you know the story, it's one thing to
have seen the Princess in movies and magazines, and another to find
yourself in a room with all the intimate mementos of her life, from home
movies showing Grace as a child and young adult (already luminous) to
the magnificent Christian Dior ballgowns she donned in Monaco. One
touching memento is the handwritten (this was before the days of
computers and hence no Excel program) seating plan for « the
wedding S.S. Le Prince Souverain le 19 avril 1956 » and the
wedding invitation of « Grace-Patricia to The Serene Highness The
Prince of Monaco Thursday, the nineteenth of April at half after ten
o'clock in the Cathedral ». No need to specify
which cathedral-in tiny Monaco there's only one in which
the Prince would marry.
Walking through the show, which is separated into
« rooms », each devoted to a particular aspect of her life
which ended tragically in a car crash at the age of 52, I realized how
much people my age had grown up with Grace Kelly : the actress and
model (she never had any qualms about posing for cigarette or soap ads
- remember Cashmere Bouquet and Old Gold cigarettes ?),
the regal princess of Monaco who made us dream (you too can marry a
Prince !), the devoted and doting mother of three of the
world's most-watched offspring. We witnessed her
getting an Oscar in 1959 (ouch, this dates me !) for The Country
Girl, then meet Rainier, sail to Monaco (pestered by hordes of
photographers) and give up America and her acting career to retire on a
rock. Except she hardly retired - she was the best thing that happened
to this little principality, said to be called by W. Somerset Maugham
« a sunny place for shady people ». Grace brought class,
ceremonies, and celebrities aplenty to the sleeping Rock.
A funny thing happened as I walked around the exhibition hall. Like
everyone else, I oohed and aahed over the fabulous jewelry, gowns,
hats, accessories (including the famous Kelly bag Herms named after
Grace), the correspondence with and films of Grace with her famous
friends (David Niven, Clark Gable, Albert and Alma Hitchcock, William
Holden, Bing Crosby, James Cooper, Clark Gable, Ava Gardner).
Gradually a picture formed, of a woman who carried herself regally and
never let herself go.
Princess Grace couldn't have « done a
Diana » if she'd wanted to. Unlike Princess Diana,
Grace reined in her feelings and treated being a princess like a job,
earning a rare compliment from the Queen of England :
« She's one of us. »
For Grace, being princess was a job, a tough one. Behind the beautiful
gowns and glittering ballrooms and ceremonies Grace Kelly surely had
her own private sorrows and worries and vexations, ones the world
would never know because she presented only her best face to the
world.
Her own daughters, Princess Caroline and Princess Stephanie, made
palpitating copy for the Paris Match and Gala and other
people magazines for years but they never achieved the level of class
that their mother did.
As for Prince Albert, everyone's still waiting for him to
find his Princess. Grace Kelly, after all, is one hard act to follow.
However that may be, the exhibition makes it clear that Grace possessed
a simple quality so few in her position possess: ....grace.
Harriet Welty Rochefort is the author of
"French Toast: An American in Paris Celebrates the Maddening Mysteries of the French" and
"French Fried: The Culinary Capers of an American in Paris".
French Toast was hailed by the Los Angeles Times as "wise and devastatingly
funny". For world-famous chef Alain Ducasse, her second book French Fried
"in a lively and hilarious style ... gives an inside look at the world of
French cuisine and wine." Both books are published by St. Martin's Press.
She is currently working on her third book about the French.
Coming to Paris? Harriet gives
tailormade wine and cheese tastings to individuals as well as to university
groups. For more information, visit her webpages:
www.frenchfolio.com and
www.understandfrance.com .
If you've had some funny, startling, satisfying, or dismaying
food experiences in France you'd like to share,
you may contact Harriet directly at
harriet.welty@hwelty.com.
Editor's Note:
Dear Readers, while our writers are always
delighted to hear and to receive comments, both about their columns in the The Paris Kiosque,
as well as your experiences in Paris,
they are unable to answer requests for travel information.
Thank you for your understanding.
French Toast: An American in Paris Celebrates the Maddening Mysteries of the French