My Marrakesh

Cairo: and stories waiting to be told...

She had been born in Cairo through parental happenstance, lending her an imprint of exoticism that she was not sure she rightly deserved (and causing passport stampers worldwide to raise eyebrows before letting her through their corralled airport gates).

As an adult, she had returned to Cairo on a number of occasions.  The first time,  many years ago accompanied by a beautiful boy with whom she had fallen in love in Italy.   And more recently on a variety of assignments associated with her day job.  She never grew tired of Cairo. Despite its congestion, pollution, and endless honking of horns, the city had an energy that was all its own.  She looked forward to getting lost in the Khan el Khalili and returning shamefacedly to the hotel with purchases that presented incorrigible packing problems.  And she secretly enjoyed getting swept up into late night shisha smoking sessions of which she was dutifully never proud the next morning.

You see, things happened in Cairo over which one had little control.

Tomorrow, the stories would all begin again....  In the mean time, there were the past stories of her encounter with the polygamous sailor, her bout as the city's Juice Queen, and her Egyptian contemplations of an imaginary (or real?) heaven.  Just in case you were interested in that sort of thing. 

There was packing to do now.  She would see you next somewhere on the other side.........

 

Mesmerizing image by Hexchrome

My Marrakech: and the amazing tale of a blog book deal with Artisan Books

Dear friends,

Let me tell you a story. 

Once upon a time (okay really, it was late March 2008), there was a blogging girl sitting in front of her computer writing a long-ish report.  It was a day like others in her Marrakech olive grove.  The skies were blue, the birds were chirping and, sigh, the landscaper still hadn't shown up.   It was then that she received a message from a woman with an impressive sounding name, a certain Ingrid Abramovitch. The email went something like this:  Hello Maryam.  I read your blog, and I quite like it. I am a senior editor at Artisan Books and a former long-time editor of House & Garden. Might you be interested in doing a book?

The girl looked around the room but there was no one else there named Maryam.  It seemed - amazingly - that the message was for her....

The weeks that followed were filled with book proposal scribblings and advice from angels. Literary agents stepped forward to represent her, and the girl finally signed Kneerim and Williams, which also represented all kinds of prize-winning authors.  (Gulp.  Please don't tell these Kneerim and Williams people that her vocabulary was limited to mostly two and three syllable words.) It felt very grownup to have a literary agent, and even more grownup to have two:  the witty and savvy Jill Kneerim and the darling and smart Cara Krenn.

The book proposal was received and liked, and one fine day, the book deal was done.  The girl felt so lucky to be working with Artisan Books, which publishes only ten books a year, including the heart-stopping Flower, the gorgeous Fandango, the delicious French Laundry Cookbook and one of her favorites, Vicente Wolfe's fabulous Learning to See: Bringing the World Around You into Your Home.  (Oh dear, she had already begun suffering from an inferiority complex...)

As for the blogging girl's book-to-be -- part memoir and part Moroccan design treatise -- she would do her very best to make sure it was accessible (i.e. no hoity-toity-ness) and packed with plenty of inspiration. The book would not be a reprint of what was in this blog. Oh, no, no, no.  It would go in a different (and super fun) direction and be filled with many special, beauty-saturated surprises....

The book would be all shiny and ready in 2009.  Between now and then, the blogging girl would be rolling up her sleeves and getting to work.  But you would still see her on this blog as always:)

Today's pinch-me-but-it's-true tale will end with flowers -  roses picked from the garden and offered with thanks from me to you.  Thank you for your friendship and support on this little blog  -- you are  my inspiration for this book-to-be. Many thanks also are due to Artisan's lovely Ingrid Abramovitch and Ann Bramson for showing me that the universe is an enchanted place where magical things can happen - and do - each and every day. 

With love and gratitude,

Maryam in Marrakech

Manama: and a Persian madeleine

She was in Manama having a meeting in a Persian restaurant.  It was 121 degrees outside, and the restaurant's air conditioning felt illicit and luxurious.  They settled into one of those booths found in the Gulf that have curtains for privacy.  The man she was interviewing had been arrested when he was 18 and had spent 17 years in prison.  For nine of those years, he didn’t have a fan. 

The dishes came out one after the other, and the tastes brought back sudden rushes from her childhood… the maast-o khiar, the kebab soltani, the saffron rice.  Afterward, they were served tea that was sweet and strong, and its scent filled the curtained booth.  But it was the tea glasses that caught her attention.  They were sorbet colored, decorated with great flourishes of gold painted by hand, and stylized images of Shah Abbas.  She remembered having tea in those same glasses in Iran so many years ago.   Seeing her interest, her dinner companion leaned forward and said, If you like those glasses, you can buy them in the Irani Baazar.  It’s not so far from here.  She looked up at him and said, I think I will.

It was noon, and the sun was unrelenting.  It was her last day in Manama.    Please, she said to her driver, I want to go to the Irani Bazaar.  He looked at her warily -- the Irani Bazaar was outdoors.  But he drove on, obliging.  Once they arrived, they went from store to store.  Finally, they found them.  The glasses.   I would like the violet ones, she said in her broken Farsi.  Please, I'll take the rose ones, too, and those little blue ones.  And the pink sugar holder.  And the glass stirrers.  She didn’t even bother to bargain. 

She hand carried the parcel on the flight to Dubai, through transit, on the flight to Casablanca, and by car to Marrakech. 

What’s in the box?  her husband asked.  Let me show you, she said....

 

Marrakech: and the quest for caftans

She was inspired by vintage Moroccan caftans.  In an era of plastic, of mass consumption, of strip malls, of chain stores, of Big Gulps, of Chinese manufacturing, of “it bags”, of identical outfits at identical parties ….they were a gentle reminder of another possibility.  Of things made by hand, stitch after stitch.  The embroidery :  exquisite.  The finishing :  perfection.  The drape : flattering .  Inspiration to pick with care, to wear with care, to store with care.   To buy fewer but better.  Why they were the very antidote to disposability.  In a time of Spanx, of control tops, of shapers, of slimmers, and of liposuction, the caftan evoked an ideal self merely through suggestion.  No exposed décolleté, no slit to the hip, no parading of the thighs.  But discretion, beauty, elegance. 

And so if you wondered where the blogging girl in Marrakech might be, perhaps you would find her somewhere deep in the heart of the medina souks, looking…… for yet another vintage Moroccan caftan.

My Marrakech: and the sad fairy birthday

Yay, it was the weekend! Just right for a garden birthday party in Marrakech!

The blue was so inviting and the balloons let them know they were at the right place....

They walked through a magical bamboo thicket......

And finally, they arrived!  The porch had gotten all dressed up for the party.

Even the fountain insisted on getting in on the festivities.....

Oh, the children wore appropriate footwear and caused a ruckus....

Presents were opened and candles were blown out...

But all too soon, it was over.  In the end, there was only one sad little fairy who didn't want to fly back  to her buttercup.  Ahem, where she lived, of course......

PS Take a peek at Alex's new shop (of Gypsy Girl Guide fame) right here!  Yay, Alex!

Marrakech: and the Julia Roberts wonderings

Oh, the lucky blogging girl.  She had friends that had some rather grand-ish houses in Marrakech...even one that had been rented by that smiliest of smiley movie stars......Julia Roberts.

(Doesn't Julia seem so very nice for a movie star?)

Now the blogging girl just happened to be in that very house last weekend having afternoon cocktails.  And she couldn't help but  wonder if this red hatted fellow below catered to Julia's every whim in Marrakech, lighting candles, serving appetizers, and generally making himself indispensable..........

Julia might have lounged in tile-filled nooks like this...........

And perused beauteous books like this......

She might have listened to water trickling into tiled fountains like this........

And inquired where she could purchase a Moroccan chiseled table like this....

And yes, taken long bubble baths in a tiled confection like this....(those blue and yellow tiles made the blogging girl's heart sing)

Hmmm...perhaps most importantly, the blogging girl wondered.....did Julia like the sardines?

A Marrakech kindergarten: and genie rites of passage

They had learned (amazingly) how to read!  They had learned adding and "take away"!  They had learned the eating habits of giraffes! 

But story time was over....because it was the last day of kindergarten.

As you know, the last day of kindergarten entails dressing up in harem-appropriate clothing.  (What?!  You mean not everyone dresses up in I-Dream-of-Genie-garb where you live?)

There were the very jingly-est dresses......

And the very sparkly-est shoes......

And little girls who shook, shimmied and swirled scarves..........innocently wooing six-year old  sheiks.....

Sadly, next year, they would trade in harem pants for red and blue uniforms. 

Last secrets before Summer........

Last promises to be best-friends-forever........

Last day,

              last hour,

                            last minute...........

                                                          of kindergarten in Marrakech.........

Marrrakech: and Laurence Landon's reflection-filled palette

She is charming.
She is mysterious.
She is talented.

Her name is Laurence Landon, and she is a French artist living in Marrakech.  (But of course......)

The blogging girl had been invited to Laurence's atelier for lunch.

 

The atelier was filled with tiny, shining pieces of glass.....

...which Laurence fashioned into careful mosaics.......

which then became things of beauty......like elegant votive candle holders, to be placed on tables.....

Or hung on walls .....providing Art Deco flair. Every piece a limited edition.

Laurence's inspiration could be found pinned neatly everywhere...

Lovely things here and there...Her favorite film is,"It's a Wonderful Life".........(And it really is, isn't it?)

One last cup of coffee.......set, of course, among shimmering glass......

See Laurence's portfolio of stunning candle holders, lamps, and mirrors right here. She exhibits in Paris. Wholesale and retail inquiries welcome. Visits by appointment.

A Marrakech Gulp: I present you The Peacock Pavilions Boutique Hotel Website

Please, she said shyly, I have something to show you.

It's my website.  My new website for my Marrakech boutique hotel, Peacock Pavilions. 

Oh, it's not perfect, it's far from perfect.

But it was made with love, like all the best things are..... 

Like the home made chocolate cake with the messy frosting.

Like the brownies that looked a little funny (but tasted delicious). 

Like the apple pie baked with ingredients not in the recipe....

Now thankfully, I had some helpers in the kitchen. (I was apt to start a fire if I were all by myself). 

First there was the lovely Jennifer Hill from the fab blog Places I have never been  She collaborated with me on the website design. This girl's incredibly talented (if you don't believe me, just look at all her goodies.).  For her efforts, I award her the Diamond Encrusted Cupcake Pan.

Then there was Zac Ziswick from tank-tank who made website ladybugs that could really fly and so much more.  A genius in that mysterious language, computerese, I highly recommend him for all your graphic design techy needs.  For his travails, I award him the coveted Golden Souffle Dish.

Finally there was the enchanting Vanessa of the magical blog, a Fanciful Twist. She drew my peacock logo from scratch.  See her almost-better-than-Narnia creations right here.  For Vanessa's labors, I award her the Ruby-Studded Waffle Maker.

And so here it is.........yes, here it is.........ahem, right here. 

I do so hope you like it.

Dubai: and objects of desire

Oh dear, she had not made it unscathed out of Dubai duty-free .........

 
mmm....Guerlain's Aqua Allegoria in the yummy fig and iris blend......

A Sony Erikson S500i phone, called, Mysterious Green.  4 bands because she never knew where in the world she might end up....... 

A Clarins tan-in-a-jar, described as delicious....

Vogue Living  purchased at, gasp, five times the cover price; so gorgeous.  (The blogging girl would be most beholden to Australian blog readers traveling to Marrakech.  She was desperate for the Vogue Living July/August issue.)

 

The prettiest MAC makeup because, frankly, the blogging girl could use a little help these days...Mac Skinfinish in Warm (so luminous and glowy), Plushglass lipgloss in Nice Buzz (maybe the world's best name for a lip gloss), Pearl liner in Honey B. (perfect and neutral), and Mac Prep & Prime with SPF 50 (because she lived in an oaisis in the desert, after all.......)

Everything photographed against Om Home textiles.  The girl was a great fan of their beautiful things.  (And recently she had had the pleasure of personal shopping in Marrakech with darling Oorbee Roy, Om Home's owner, as well as Oorbee's charming husband, Sanjeev).