Springtime in Paris is simply glorious: all of the flowers in the city’s parks start to bloom, the trees start to blossom and those bone-chilling breezes off the Seine turn more pleasant than polar. I like enjoying le printemps at Palais Royal gardens, reading a book or studying for my thesis or basically doing nothing. Yesterday after having stayed all the morning there, I went to Fornasetti exhibition at Musée des Arts Decoratifs. It’s a fascinating exhibition, loosely chronological, that paints an entertaining portrait of an artist with a phenomenal output. All the familiar Fornasetti pieces are represented: the furniture, trays, umbrella stands and plates (astounding enough in their volume, humour and execution) but this comprehensive collection delves even deeper. It encompasses early paintings, miniscule sketches on scraps of paper, the books that inspired him, preliminary paintings for scarves and cruise liners, photos of his bedroom as a child (which he decorated himself) and cabinets of curiosities confirming that in Fornasetti’s world, there really was no object unadorned.
Bompard cashmere sweater / Acne jeans / Chanel bag and flats
