Celestine In The Palais Royal Gardens

 Dear readers,

It's funny how it goes. Spring has hit with a visual thunderclap, the sun has played central stage for a few heady days and perky male birds are intent on luring a harem of quietly coloured females with their exquisite serenades. Despite this delightful spectacle assailing my senses I have been feeling quite melancholic. Nature always has the final word, you will agree, and so I have tried to accept this temporary state of mind as gracefully as possible. 

Wandering the countryside has raised my spirits, of course.  The fruit trees are proudly displaying their finest garnments and as my eyes travel upwards in wonder I tell myself that never before have I seen such an opulent display of blossom.  I also thank my lucky stars that, unlike my eldest daughter Héloïse, I am not allergic to pollen: it's going to be a potent time for hayfever sufferers this spring.

My sadness is no more than a good dose of nostalgia, I beIieve, following a full day in Paris after dropping Héloïse and Tristan off at the Gare du Nord.  An afternoon spent soaking in the beauty of the Palais Royal arcades and gardens on a glorious spring day whilst recalling years of happy memories in this city left me feeling foolishly wistful.

 Have you ever been to the Palais Royal?  The peaceful gardens, nestled amongst seventeenth-century architecture and a stone's throw away from the Louvre Museum, are quite enchanting.  Prior to the French Revolution, Louis-Philippe Joseph II Duc d’Orleans, King Louis XVI's cousin, had turned the Palais Royal into the place to be in Paris. The gardens were crowded both day and night. Café tables and chairs spilled out into the gardens at all hours. Circus acts and street performers entertained the crowds. Parisians as well as visitors from the provinces and abroad came to the Palais Royal to shop, gamble, drink, mingle, and discuss the ideas of Enlightenment philosophy without threat of censorship or imprisonment.

 

Perched on a straight-backed iron bench that afternoon last week I observed the present day gardens. The linden trees with timid leaves unfurling - as seen in the first picture above - hopping sparrows, and lusty magnolias sporting the most stunning pink blooms I have ever seen.  Within the cloistered lawns crowds of delicate narcissi jostled for attention alongside bonbon pink tulips and blue hyacinths.  There was birdsong everywhere and around the exuberant central fountain people sat, their faces uplifted to catch the sun with bare feet and blissful smiles.  Gaggles of children whispered and giggled behind clipped round boxtrees enclosed in celadon painted wooden containers whilst their parents gossiped and chastised.   There were sweet girls with cropped haircuts and petal pink dresses and knits scuffing their shoes in the dust.  These little girls were the inspiration behind Celestine Mouse, my latest creation.

She reminds me of the old-fashioned toy shops hidden in the arcades surrounding the gardens.  Her dress is so very French as are her pantaloons stitched from 1900 hand-embroidered tulle and trimmed with handmade lace.  I made her in rememberance of bygone times still present in such places as these gardens which are suffused with social history.  Content though Celestine might be playing in central Paris she is even happier lying in the grass in our garden and looking up through the branches of our cherry trees.

And because sewing makes me happy and soothes my nostalgic heart I decided to make this little mouse another dress from Liberty fabric trimmed with 1940's lace.

 If you would care to take a closer look at Celestine - and her two dresses - she may be found here, patiently twiddling her thumbs and dreaming of bygone days in Paris.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my (self-indulgent) words, wonderful readers.  I am a little curious to know whether you too suffer from bouts of nostalgia?

A bientôt,

Stephanie