Photos and text by: Corey Amaro
Once a year in June there is a fabulous party for urban real estate developers in Marseilles. In the last five years the party has been held in a different part of Marseilles to showcase the diverse beauty of the area. Because my husband is involved in urban real estate investment we were invited.
Most of the people gathered there know each other. The party is a way of celebrating business friendships, for them to have a time to come together outside of work and mingle.
I am invited by my husband, I am his silent partner, that tags along for the atmosphere, to gawk at the fashion, for the food and later to dance.
This year the urban development party was held at the Monticelli museum on the coast of L'Estaque, a small port just outside of Marseilles.
(Click here then zoom in on the map, follow the road (left) along the coast line for a wonderful virtual drive.)
The Monticelli museum is an old fortin (a small fort) dated 1861, it features the work of Monticelli.
The party was outside under massive canopies.
The view was impeccable.
The evening flawless, not a breath of wind, which is unusual in Marseilles.
On the rugged coast men and women gathered dressed in black,
with polished shoes meant for polished floors.
High heels on the rocks. A sexy, dangerous balancing act.
Luckily I wore flats: Stylish not, safe yes.
French Husband and his business partner Thierry.
My husband and I.
Skunk lined me wearing a watch because Sacha told me too, "Mom it looks chic, wear it."
"Sacha I never wear a watch, and besides it doesn't work."
"Who cares? It is impractical, you are in love with impractical!"
(I took that as the highest compliment.)
Then that son of mine said, "Mom you should have dyed your hair, from my view (he is taller than me, duh,) your skunk line is big time!"
"Yeah, blame that on Daddy for not telling me sooner about the party, and the hairdresser had a death in the family… so she is on a break," then I continued, "Is it that bad?"
"Its gonna be dark outside… pray they don't have strobe lights on the dance floor!" He teased.
The rail along the coastline became the stand up bar, business as usual… cell phones were buzzing more than drinks.
American flag cell phone, red fingernail polish, and those Marseillaise gold balls.
Love it, but don't leave home without it.
Black won.
Lace and ruffles everywhere: Lace fringe on jackets, lace of purses, lace on shoes, and ruffles.
If black dye should every dry up and go away France and I will go into mourning.
A life without the little black dress?
If I wasn't afraid of the tightrope, and if my feet could still stand it I would have bought these before she did.
She didn't dance, but man did she look good!
(My Mona Lisa smile.)
You know the saying, "You got to suffer to look beautiful?" Well when I was a little girl and my mother would brush my hair, she would say, "You gotta suffer to look beautiful," when I complained that it hurt.
I use to cry, "I don't want to look beautiful!"
Last night when I was dressing for the party, I asked Sacha, "What shoes look better, the flat ones or my high heels?"
"You know what I am going to say…." he responded.
"Yes, but the high ones will kill me!"
"You, know what they say Mom, "You have to suffer to be beautiful!" Then he laughed and added, "You know Mom, when people say that to me I always say, I am already beautiful."
I dropped my shoes when the brick hit me in the head… "Why did I never think of that response?" I said to Sacha.
With that I wore my flats.
A splash of turquoise silk lining. It is a new thing.
The night with a splash of color.
…to be continued.
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