Paris A Movable Feast

From the moment I arrived in Paris many years ago I felt completely inspired by the opulence, magnificence and grandeur of the city. Every breath was filled with the splendour of life, I felt like I had just returned home.

I had always had a strong desire to travel to Paris from a very young age, I dreamed of strolling down the streets filled with the passionate, richly cultured French life. I swooned at the thought of the beautiful art, fashion and food so when I did eventually arrive and knew this was the start of a love affair for the City of lights, one I would return to again and again. 

I am completely under a spell as soon as I step foot in this city, my imagination is fuelled with a passion for French life, especially the romance of French life. I can’t quite explain what I find especially romantic about Paris, but the traditional cliché of a love story was everywhere to be found. Couples strolling down the boulevard hand in hand carrying a baguette and a bunch of flowers, the breath taking city of lights at night, picnics in the park under the Eiffel tower, late afternoon drinks in little street cafes, all the elements of a beautiful life. 

I arrived at the Lido Cabaret on the Champs-Elysees, the heartbeat of cabaret, the extravagant and dazzling choreographed revue. People were arriving in the elaborately ornate foyer and we were ushered to our table. The discreet wait staff gliding swiftly among the tables, pulling French champagne bottles from ice buckets, topping up glasses. The room fills quickly, the lights dimmed; there was a buzz of expectation before the curtain rise. 

The exotic, the erotic, the lavish sets, the showgirls, the magnificent costumes, alive with texture, colour and sparkle, a shimmer of feathers, sequins and rhinestones, I was intoxicated.

Paris was the centre of my internal creative desires, I went about seeking out fabric, design, embroidery, costumes and theatre. I found myself sitting in sidewalk cafes, day dreaming of spending hours upon hours hand embroidering beadwork onto the most exquisite costumes, wondering if I was picking up on a distant past life as if I’d been here before because everything had felt so familiar and emotionally moving.

On my return home I was filled with inspiration and enthusiasm to explore the ideas that could translate my Paris experience onto fabric and through needlework. Costume was also a strong contender, one that could truly reflect my Paris experience, one that would encompass passion, love, romance and beauty. 

I bought a book back from the Lido titled “Les Coulisses Du Bonheur” which included photographs of the ateliers, the talented men and women who construct the performers costumes by hand; this was the focus of my attention, the actual performance of hand stitching.

Hand stitching for me, is a way of exploring the emotions and the impetus that drives me to feel passionate about a certain subject or place. Where the thoughts, feelings and memories stem from, and how I interpret them through my artwork. These thoughts and questions are thoroughly explored through the repetitive motions of hand embroidery. The physical act, the emotional thought reconciles into the actual stitched image. Hours of contemplative time spent recalling moments in time and letting the imagination run wild.