From the studio
There’s some exciting news coming out of the Bouvier studio this week. Here’s a glimpse of rafti designing the first collections for our new brand, Bouvier Bride. The shots were taken at Dar Rafti in Fes, during our latest design trip.
The collections will be launched in time for Spring 2012. Stay tuned!
Out and about – June 23rd, 2012
Karl Largerfeld, Anna Wintour, Wynton Marsalis … yes, Julie Skarratt has photographed them all.
A new career high-water mark, Julie was seen (with rafti) learning how to hand make couscous from raw materials in the mountains outside Fes, Morocco.
Handling a new Canon 5D is one thing … but a wicker basket full of loose couscous? Well, that’s a totally different kettle of fish!
Thank you very much to Michele and Gail at Plan-It-Fez for arranging the trip and to Hadija and Fatima for teaching us so much.
Out and about – June 19th, 2012
We were lucky enough to see Bjork in concert at the Fes Sacred Music festival.
What can we say … she was amazing … backed by two guys (drums and electronics) and a girls choir from Iceland. The sound … well, it got every part of the body moving. Bouvier had goose bumps all night. One member was even seen pushing to the front of the stage to do a bit of moshing. Please, no names!
And then there was the after-party. Bouvier wasn’t so much invited as crashed it … but the friendly journalists from Le Figaro smoothed the way for us. Somehow, PC had his picture taken with a few of the girls from the choir … and he was interviewed by French TV. Hmmm, not sure what to say about that. Details »
From where I sit – June 16th, 2012
I’d like to introduce you to my new soul-mate, Gaspard.
After the previous debacle of the BBQ’d coffee, Gaspard found me wandering the streets, thirsty, dazed and very confused. In true Medina fashion, he offered his hand and asked me if he would be able to help me find my way around the labyrinth. I shrugged him off as just another young street tout. Then he mentioned that his family owned a cafe.
Alors, what was there to lose?
The coffee … Mon Dieu, the coffee … was worse than the last lot I had to swallow. And the name, Cafe Cat … where did they get that from? But there was something different about this cafe. I felt safe, I felt the honest love of a family … I felt like I was home.
Gaspard is the eldest son of a family of nine. Very poor, his parents work from dawn till dusk, and then some more. At night, they go out foraging for food scraps from the back doors of restaurants. And yet, they seem to have everything they need. Gaspard manages his younger siblings with a fist of iron, although he’s the biggest softie I’ve ever met. Antoinette, the youngest, will be a handful when she grows up. But, for now, they’re all content to run around the back alleys of the medina, beating their toy drums and playing their version of ‘soccer’.
I sit with Gaspard for hours and regale him with stories from outside the medina walls … a place he’s never seen. He’s had no schooling yet he can speak in five different languages, and he can read well enough to adore the classics of the ancient world. Ah, to have the enquiring mind of a youth again … eh bien, c’est la vie!
I’d like to thank my oldest and dearest friend, Mademoiselle Julie Skarratt, for taking the photos of Gaspard and Antoinette. Their parents were so excited, they had the photos framed, and they take pride of place above the family basket. Details »
From where I sit – June 8th, 2012
Dear friends, my heart is close to bursting. After waiting for close on fifteen minutes for a cup of coffee, I decided to steal around behind the counter in an attempt to expedite our afternoon tea. This is what I found. The little pots of coffee are sitting on a fire set beneath the grill. Yes, that’s right … BBQ’d coffee!
What am I to do? I’ve travelled almost halfway around the globe. I’ve suffered the indignity of airport security searches (no, I will not offend your sensibilities with the details), scowling immigration officers, obsequious taxi drivers … and I’ve smiled and maintained my countenance with the lot.
But this … BBQ’d coffee … indeed! What would the baristas at the Boat House at Palm Beach say if they knew I was drinking that?
Truthfully, it’s not even the coffee. Le Patron at the cafe had the nerve to chase me away shouting, in the local dialect, “Get that dog out”. Moi? A dog? Are they all blind here?
So, it is with a leaden heart that I limp back to our little house and put on the bialetti.
The positive … yes, there is one. As the eternal entrepreneur, I’ve started designing a très chic, hole-in-the-wall cafe in Fes. I’m looking for investors … are you interested?
Until next time … n’shufuk.
Bixi el Fes