And I've been away.
The magical moments of last week's balcony scene were cut far too short when Monsieur announced his intention to whisk me away. "But can't I finish my champagne?" "But you need to pack and the car's booked for quarter to eight." Car? Booked? Friggin' 7:45 on a Saturday morning? PACK?
Packing takes time; being a princess requires planning. I do little diagrams with mind-maps and calenders to work out outfits and options for such variables as inclement weather and bloating. Being told to pack and go within hours - without even knowing the destination - came as more of a head-fry than Monsieur's other ask that night.
Having downed that last glass of champagne (as though I was going to let it go to waste) my head was in spin-cycle by the time I got to my closet. All I can say is thank gawd most of my wardrobe is black. Black sweaters, black jeans, black boots and a little black dress. Who cares if I'd look more like a widow than someone newly engaged: If I was going to bring the wrong stuff, at least everything would match.
The car arrived and took us to Montparnasse where we boarded a train to Bordeaux. "Bordeaux?" "No." "Oh." "I'm taking you to The Loire! To the valley of grand châteaux! Because you are my Queen!"
And oh shit, I didn't pack a tiara.
Style File Followers Take Note:
1. How most bloggers juggle life and blogging, boggles my mind.
2. That's Chenonceau. It's an outrageously exquisite château at the far end of the Loire. If you're looking for design inspiration for your kitchen, the downstairs scullery is sublime.
3. That's not a random stray in the background of that next photo. That's Archie Lewoof, our border terrier, cunningly captured in this rather miraculous one-armed shot. Monsieur is a man of many talents.
4. I did have one non-black item of clothing with me: A black & white striped BCBG Max Azria sweater. A veritable rainbow for me.
5. Monsieur pulled out all the stops and treated this princess to a helicopter ride up The Loire. Yeah, I think "yes" was the right answer too.