Haro Tokyo!

Alain Ducasse ’Beige’ at the top of Chanel building in Ginza district

Wearing a DIY Scarf dress made by Kit, second to last photo thanks to Haleigh, community manager of Perrier Jouet & blogger (Making Magique)

So yeaahh, Tokyo’s alright.

The mad lady who usually writes here is now sitting in a corner with a cone hat for putting ‘alright’ in a sentence with Tokyo. Hear me out though, practically everything in this blog is categorized into either ‘box of kittens with rainbow tails’ or ‘bag of steaming camel poop’, but you and I both know Tokyo doesn’t fall into either or even that curt space in between, so I believe we’re in desperate need of a new adjective. ‘Alright’ will have to do for now – plus, I’ve booked in six hours of Redbull-fused intranet trawling in hopes of finding something that might trump a litter of kittens (let’s give pugs and pandas a chance) but I’m also open to suggestions. Let me help by saying how fantastic it is to be here. To me, this is the source of my childhood – Dragonball Z, Sailor Moon, One Piece, Detective Conan, Azumanga Daioh… and oh my goodness, POKÉMON. Actually, if we include Pokémon then it’s the source of most of my adult life as well. I also believe I had a successful primary-school education thanks to some genius at the TV station who thought it was a good idea to play Dragonball Z at 7:30 in the morning which meant my brother and I got up like clockwork and didn’t stage morning coups with the alarm (aka mother). Nowadays I don’t even get up for the damn fire alarm. It’s not just that, but growing up a foreigner in Poland meant I permanently carried this silent heart longing for a ‘home town’ and so many things in Tokyo reminded me of the frequent dreams I’d have of Seoul as a kid. The journey was 17 hours with a layover in Dubai, but by the time we were out of the airport parking my half wilting body didn’t seem to remember, or mind, as I craned forward determined not to miss a single thing.

A massive thank you to Perrier-Jouët for the most generous invitation; much more to come, keep your eyes peeled!

Truely majestic hospitality: Plaza Athénée, Paris

Bag by Marc Jacobs

Necklace, DanniJo

Dior Institut au Plaza Athéné

The Courtyard

Dinner at the chef’s table at the Alain Ducasse restaurant

Head chef, Christophe Saintagne

Neoprene Jacket, H&M Trend. Knitted pleat-dress, Maska. Stone-Stud heels, Zara.

Breakfast!

Thank you to TCS and Hermes for the lovely trip.

As I’m typing this my husband and I are sitting side by side at our white £39 IKEA desk, with our favourite lamp lit dimly behind us – favourite because it has an energy-saving lightbulb that is kind to the monthly bill, and the fact that it takes about 3 gazillion years for it to get to maximum brightness so at least in the meantime it sets a moody light while we randomly slot a few bites of our swirly-pasta dinner between our online game/Sex & the City marathon (him/me). I’m also editing these photos, and realizing what a world apart it is – so much that it seems that the photos don’t entirely seem mine. These shots are from a night at the Plaza Athénée during the Hermes trip in Paris – might be familiar to some as the hotel that Carrie and her Russian ‘luvv-er‘ Aleksandr Petrovski stay at in the last two episode of the SATC series. The five-star Plaza Athénée defines hospitality, where the attention is so subtle yet omnipresent it almost feels natural to be catered to such level of service, it’s like they think ahead what might be comfortable before you even have to ask. (Although, they didn’t appear at the door at 3am with a pizza and marshmallows, but I suppose one can’t expect too much) Also, I found a total of five closets in the room, and while I had only brought a dress, another pair of shoes and pjs I separated them into the closets  just so I had a reason to use them all.  Dinner at the three-star Michelin restaurant by Alain Ducasse leaves you speechless, simply for the fact that you’re busy devouring seven courses that roll in seamlessly, and if you’re with good company consider yourself sitting for the rest of the night… in fact we departed the table well past midnight! The Dior institut is like an underground extension of the couture house from across the road on Avenue Montaigne, except, couture in Beauty. See what I mean by world apart? These rare hotel treats spoil me rotten (last one at Hotel de Crillon Paris courtesy of Dior), but thankfully I’m usually back home in my Dalston warehouse-conversion flat before I even have a chance to say ‘boy, I can get used to this’. And at least I’m left with beautiful places to share with you all.