Danielle Steel's Blog, page 61

Paris Fashion Week…Again

Hi, Everyone!!

It's that time of year again!!! (Ready to Wear) Fashion Week in Paris. As I've told you before, the Haute Couture shows used to be the Big Event in French fashion, with presidents' wives, major movie stars, and famous socialites at every show, making it a really big deal. Now with most of the big Couture designers gone, the only two big Haute Couture shows left are Dior and Chanel. Givenchy does Haute Couture and no longer does a fashion show, although they make beautiful clothes. But nowadays, there are few familiar faces at those shows although I saw Cameron Diaz at the recent Chanel Haute Couture show, and she looked absolutely gorgeous, just as pretty as in the movies!!

But in recent years, now the Main Event are the ready to wear shows, in October and March. It's an International Event, with American Designers showing their future collections in New York, the Italians in Milan a week later, the British in London the week after that, and finally the French designers showing their wares in Paris. And every year the ready to wear shows gain momentum. Long ago, they were only for retailers and store buyers and the fashion press, now EVERYONE goes, and is it a Wow!!!! Movie stars, famous people of every kind, royals, it is an incredible scene, with hundreds of press focused as much on the audience as the runway show.

Today I went to the Dior show, which is probably one of the biggest. They are showing the clothes for fall, and in theory these shows are still meant to show store buyers what's coming so they can place their orders for next season. But in addition to the buyers, there are just hordes of people there. I went with one of my daughters who is a fashion editor, and we always have fun when we go, nudging each other and pointing, watching the people, and enjoying the show. Dior is a little less dramatic on the runway, without a head designer at the moment. They have not yet replaced John Galliano, whose presence always added flair and drama to the show. But there was plenty of flair and drama in the audience. My daughter and I tried to guess how many people were there, and we figured it was somewhere between 2 and 3,000, in any case it was a LOT!!! The show was held at the beautiful Rodin Museum (part of the fun is where these shows are held), on the Left Bank, on the rue de Varenne, just down the street from where I lived as a young girl in my teens, when I lived in Paris. Just getting into the show was a mob scene, with hundreds of photographers shouting the names of anyone they recognized, and jostling to get photos of them. There was lots of pushing and shoving, and then we were finally in the museum, sitting on bleachers on three sides of the runway. There were flocks of Asian movie stars I didn't recognize, but who got a lot of attention from the press, famous magazine editors, French, American, Italian movie stars, Spanish royalty, famous fashionistas, the head and owner of Dior was there, with both his adult children who work with him. Photographers combed the crowd for famous faces before the show began. And then the show began.

Approximately 50 gorgeous super models walked down the runway in approximately 75 or 80 outfits, impeccably put together, with sleekly combed hair, wearing impossible to walk in, very very very high platform shoes (runway shoes always look impossible to walk in, and once in a while a model stumbles or falls though none did today). The girls are usually much younger than they look in their sophisticated outfits, and most of them are in their late teens. The clothes were lovely in muted tones for fall, and we had fun watching the show. The shows usually start about half an hour late, which gives you plenty of time to ogle the crowd and get in some good people watching (there are always some crazy outfits there, on both men and women). And the show itself lasts about half an hour, and goes off with remarkable precision. So an hour after you push your way into the show, you are back on the street again, heading for the next show. There are 5 or 6 shows a day for the entire week, and parties given by the design houses at night. (My daughter went to two tonight, and I happily stayed home. I had enough pushing and shoving for one day!!!). I will be going to more shows this week, and will tell you about them.  For me, this week is always a fun event, it's fun to see the clothes, and to just enjoy the whole crazy fashion scene with all its intense atmosphere, and the people who take part in it. And it's not a 'girly' thing, the spectators are evenly divided between men and women, although probably half the people there are involved in the fashion business in some way (buyers, press, editors, stylists, whatever). And most fun for me, it brings my daughters who work in fashion to Paris, so we get some time to be together….it doesn't get better than that!!! Stay tuned!!! More to come!!!

Love, Danielle

Chanel Haute Couture Show

Hi Everyone,

It's that time of year again, time for the 'Haute Couture' fashion shows in Paris. It still always amazes me that not so many years ago (maybe 10??) it was an all week affair, running from one fashion show to the next, sometimes in some very unusual locations (swimming pools, a train station, the polo field in the park). Before that, the very serious Haute Couture shows were held in hotels, with the models going down the runway in elegant ballrooms. And now, instead of seven days of many shows a day, there are only two of the long established fashion houses left that still do Haute Couture: Christian Dior and Chanel. (Givenchy still does haute couture as well, but fewer pieces, and they are shown in a showroom, and there is no runway show).And now haute couture fashion week is only two days long (with many unknown designers who will never achieve the stature of the famous designers of the old Haute Couture, like Balenciaga, Balmain, Mme Gres, Yves St. Laurent).

Haute Couture is almost a lost art, with each garment made entirely by hand. There can't be a single machine stitch anywhere on an Haute Couture garment. The people who work on the clothing, and make the gorgeous creations by hand, have to do a twelve year apprenticeship before they are considered full-fledged seamstresses and tailors. It is truly a dying art. And the clothes in Haute Couture often/usually include amazing details, like intricate embroidery and beading. The clothing itself is staggeringly expensive. An Haute Couture wedding gown (usually for royals, Arab princess, or the brides of mega billionaires) starts at $500,000.  Hard to imagine!!  And there is always a wedding gown as the grand finale of any runway show.

There are very, very, very few buyers left for Haute Couture clothes. Mostly, the shows are put on as important publicity for the house, so even though the number of buyers is dwindling, these last two remaining shows are still put on twice a year. In January, to show summer clothes, and in July to show winter clothes. And it takes three or four months to complete a garment for an order, which includes many, many, many hours of intricate, minute work, all by hand.

Typically, there are about 60 to 70 outfits in a show, and somewhere between 40 and 50 models (the most famous supermodels at any given time), and some of them change outfits during the show. And even if you'd never consider buying an Haute Couture dress in your wildest dreams, it is still an incredible art form and worth seeing. The French consider it an art, and take it very seriously. And it's a thrill to see the shows. The decor and setting is always amazing, and there is palpable tension as people wait for the show to begin. There is music playing. The people who come to see the show are seated in the audience at hotels around Paris, or at a beautiful antique glass building called the Grand Palais. The shows are by invitation only, and invitations are hard to come by and considered a prize. The fashion press is there, editors of important magazines, like Vogue, movie stars (Cameron Diaz was at the Chanel show and looked absolutely gorgeous, and just like she does in the movies!!), and potential clients, who attend the shows beautifully dressed, perfectly made up, and often wearing jewels. It's exciting to see!!!

The first outfits on the runway are usually more sporty and casual, pantsuits, suits with skirts, simple daytime dresses. Everything is put together as an outfit: the dress, shoes, sometimes a jacket or coat, jewelry. Makeup is sometimes wild and hair extreme, or the reverse: very sleek and simple. This time at Chanel, most of the models had hair teased straight up sky high, kind of like Bride of Frankenstein. And sometimes shoes are almost impossible for the models to walk in, the heels are so high. This time there were very pretty high heeled mostly sparkly pointed shoes with ankle straps. (And I have to say the models were terrifyingly thin, and often are, too much so. Normal humans just don't look like that, and it's a tough example to set for young women, and not a healthy one for their self-image. As the mother of five daughters, it worries me to see models that thin!!).

After the more casual outfits come short cocktail dresses, then long evening gowns, and finally THE wedding gown which is the finale. And after the wedding gown, there is a pause, and then the designer comes out, walks down the runway to the audience's applause. In the case of Chanel, it is Karl Lagerfeld, who is German, 80 years old, and an unbelievably talented, legendary, energetic designer. He not only designs Chanel's ready-to-wear and couture, but also for his own label, and another line of clothing as well, and he's an active and talented photographer. His hair is snow white, he wears it in a ponytail, wears high collars, interesting clothes, often tail coats, and gloves without finger tips. He is surely a legend and one of the most talented designers today. Truly a remarkable person!!!

In this case, the setting for the show was fantastic!!! It was at the top of the Grand Palais, and an entire set had been built that looked like an airplane, with the audience sitting in rows, with video screens of clouds passing by the portholes and above. It was amazing!! And carts were rolled down the main 'aisle', which then became the runway, offering mango juice or champagne. It put everyone in a festive mood instantly!!!

The clothes themselves were very lovely as always, with some very simple, beautiful daytime clothes, some striking evening gowns, and lots of razzle dazzle in the audience, and some beautifully dressed women.  (You can see the show and the clothes on Style.com)

Chanel is the only show I go to now. I used to go to many of the shows, when there were many, and always to Dior. But although I respect John Galliano's talent, when he began designing for Dior, the clothes were too dramatic and not really what I like, and I eventually stopped going to the Dior Shows. Mr. Galliano is no longer designing for Dior, and they haven't yet hired a new designer, so the clothes were designed by their design studio this year, which interested me less as there is no real 'signature statement' by a great designer, with no big designer creating their clothes. So I didn't go to their show. There has been much speculation in the last year as to who will take Mr. Galliano's place (there was talk of Ricardo Tisci at Givenchy going to Dior, but he didn't. Marc Jacobs, Phoebe Phylo (of Celine), and Alexander Wang. But no one has accepted the job yet, and the guessing continues).

So it was an exciting day. There was a press show at 10 am, and another one for clients, celebs, and 'important people' at noon, and I was invited to that one. It is always an honor and a treat to be there. I sat in front of the previous First Lady of France (Bernadette Chirac, and she's a lovely woman I've met before), and also Daphne Guinness, fashion icon from London, in towering platform shoes, black and gold lame leggings, with jet black and platinum hair teased and swept up, and a ring on every finger. It's almost as exciting to watch the audience as it is to watch the show!!

And no matter how remote haute couture seems from our daily lives, and even if one never owns a piece of haute couture clothing, it is a fantastic experience just being there, seeing it, and being part of it for a moment. The show takes about an hour, and I was back on the street (like Cinderella after the ball, but in this case with both shoes on) at one o'clock, having experienced the magic of it yet again. It is always exciting to me, it never fails to thrill me, whether I like a particular collection or not. For all of my childhood and adolescence I wanted to be a fashion designer (and went to design school, but got into writing instead), and I feel like an excited kid again when I see it.  It's an amazing experience and a thrill every time!!!  Afterwards, I went about my life, did some errands, bought shampoo, and did some work at home. Back to real life…..but for one extraordinary hour, I was transported by the world of Haute Couture again. There is nothing like it!!!!

Love, Danielle

Bittersweet

Most of the time, I lead a very quiet 'normal' life, and do everything I can to avoid the public side of my life. As you've read here before, my family life is the most important to me, I've always been a 'regular mom', and I'm very shy and don't like publicity. And also most of the time, I try to pretend to myself that I'm not famous. But now and then that facet of my life can't be avoided. And it still comes as a surprise to me that I'm famous. While spending my time driving carpool, picking up kids from school and going to soccer games, or writing all night, somehow fame snuck up on me. And recently, I went to one of those major glamorous Hollywood events that still knocks my socks off, and totally stuns me, and always reminds me that I'm a public person too.  The party I went to was Clive Davis' annual pre-Grammy party, the night before the Grammy's. It's held in LA, and Clive Davis is the most important man in the music world today, and has been for many, many years. He's the most important music producer in the business, and has represented everyone from Janis Joplin to Alicia Keys, Sean Combs/Puff Daddy, Santana, Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross, and just about every important singer you've ever heard of. Beyond that he is a truly wonderful man, hugely admired by everyone in the music business, and adored by the artists he represents. And the party he puts on every year is a knock out, and a party people do just about anything to get invited to. I have been very lucky to know Clive as a friend for thirty years, and have been lucky enough to attend his party before, and have always been vastly impressed by the artists who performed there.

The evening got off to a shocking start when Clive received the news at 4pm that Whitney Houston had just died. He had a deep and longstanding affection for her, as he discovered her and represented her, and they were close friends, as well as being his protegee since he launched her career, and represented her as an artist. The news of her death was devastating, and for a time there was a question of whether or not the evening would be cancelled, and in the end, they decided to go on with the party, in honor of Whitney Houston's memory. But it was hard for anyone present to absorb the fact that she was gone.

The party is held at the Beverly Hilton, where an endless line of limousines deposits just about every celebrity and music star that any of us have ever heard of, and the crowd fills the hotel lobby and ballroom. I think somewhere between two and three thousand people were there, which is hard to imagine. There is a red carpet (like at the Academy awards) where roughly three hundred photographers and TV cameras hone in on celebrities and anyone famous. I always find those red carpet moments somewhat terrifying, and suddenly photographers are calling my name, trying to get my attention and take my photograph. Along with much, much more famous people than I. But I made it through, without stumbling, tripping on my dress, or fainting—-always a victory. And I finally made it into the ballroom. I was seated at a table with Jane Fonda (who looked gorgeous), Jackie Collins the writer who is a dear friend, and her sister Joan Collins (from the TV show 'Dynasty'), their various escorts, and two movie producers. We had a fantastic view of the stage, and the evening began with a touching speech by Clive Davis about Whitney Houston, with photographs of her on two giant screens.

We ate dinner, and sometime after nine o'clock, the musical part of the evening began, with Tony Bennett, after Clive's speech, and for the next four hours, we were dazzled by music performances by old groups, new ones, famous performers, an impromptu performance by Diana Ross, when she was given a lifetime achievement award, and a stunning performance by Alicia Keys, whom I think is fantastic and is my favorite singer. And as each artist came on, almost all of them gave touching tributes to Whitney, told stories about her, or simply expressed their sadness over her passing. It was an evening filled with emotion as well as spectacular performances, dazzling people, important celebrities in every corner of the room. Clive puts on an unforgettable event with his party the night before the Grammy's, and this one was even more so with the deep emotions and sorrow over Whitney. Sean Combs/Puff Daddy performed, and so many others. Joni Mitchell was there and Neil Young. The man who created Motown, Barry Gordie, was there, and two new artists were introduced at the end of the evening. It was a non-stop musical event that just took your breath away, and would have been relentlessly joyful, were it not for the ever present sense of loss of a wonderful talented woman. You could feel Whitney Houston's presence in the room through the stories shared and memories celebrated, as again and again performances were dedicated to her. The last musical performance ended at 1:30 am, and the crowd slowly left the ballroom after an evening none of us will ever forget. I will remember forever that ballroom filled with talented, vibrant people paying tribute to someone they loved and admired. Her loss was a tragic event, and the evening was especially beautiful, and bittersweet as people paid tribute to her again and again. It was truly an unforgettable night, even more than usual. And Clive did a masterful job of letting the evening go on, but keeping it in respectful good taste. Her life was celebrated on that stage that night, and in the hearts of everyone who was there.

And leaving LA was a little bit like Cinderella after the ball. The coach had turned into a pumpkin, and the liveried footmen to white mice. There were not 300 photographers shouting my name as I left the hotel. I left quietly in jeans after a shocking, but magical day and night in LA. And I returned to face the work on my desk, my ordinary life, the things I have to do, and the book I will start….but even now, as I write to you, I remember what a fabulous night it was at Clive's pre-Grammy party last night…….and the memory of Whitney Houston, an incredibly talented woman with a remarkable voice, who died much, much too young. It was a touching, powerful, bittersweet night indeed.

Love, Danielle

The Big V

Recently someone shared with me that they'd been told that I like 'atmosphere' when I write, I supposedly burn scented candles, keep the lights low, play soft music, drink some wine and a lot of coffee, and get in the mood to write. I don't know where they heard that, but I was just stunned when they said it. I'm very leery of candles, and extremely careful of them, because I was in a fire at the age of 5. I emerged unscathed, but with a memory of it that has never left me, I have smoke detectors and fire extinguishers in every room. I've never liked drinking, and haven't had a drink since I was l7, I haven't had real coffee in about 30 years (it jangles me), I can't write if there are distractions (like noise or music), and I like bright light while I work. It shows that you really can't believe all that you read. The person who described that scene to me was quite shocked that none of it is true, and the only 'mood' I get in when I'm writing is that of discipline, intense concentration, and hard work. I don't need 'mood' to write, I need energy, focus, and concentration, and the discipline to sit there. It's a pretty stark experience, and a solitary one, and I take it seriously. Writing feels like climbing Mount Everest every time, no place for candles, soft music and wine. Can you imagine someone trekking up Mt. Everest with candles, soft music and wine? Hardly. And sometimes writing feels like climbing a mountain, it's energizing, exciting and exhausting. And for me, it's never about 'mood', but about perseverance, hard work which I welcome, and discipline (to sit through it, even though you'd rather go out and play. I write first, and play later, much later). And I hate the falsity of that romantic vision, because it is soooooooo far from the truth, about me, and about what writing is all about. I can't imagine any writer I know setting that 'mood'. I'm a more practical down to earth person, and a work horse through and through.

And as I think about it, I approach Valentine's Day in the same way, with a clear head, good lighting, loving the tenderness of it, while knowing that life is far more real. (Although candy and flowers are always nice to receive…especially chocolate!!! Funnily enough, I think some people imagine me and maybe all female writers), floating around in marabou trimmed negligees, draped across the couch, with a glass of champagne in one hand and a box of bonbons in the other, listening to soft music. The reality is so different, as I pound away on my typewriter 20 hours a day, concentrating intensely on what I'm writing. Writing isn't romantic, it's hard work.

Actually, my best Valentine's Day was when my husband John proposed to me, he later became the father of 8 of my 9 children. Now THAT was a fantastic Valentine's Day. My worst one was when I was the only girl in 3rd grade who didn't get a Valentine. Traumatic to be sure!!!

And if I were in the throes of a heated, passionate romance, I would definitely approach Valentine's Day feeling very romantic. Since that's not the case at the moment, I approach Valentine's Day with caution, like a bear waiting to eat me. With such high expectations on the that day, for true love and hot romance, it's hard not to be a little down about it on the off years….no candy, no chocolates, boo hoo.

It's one of those days when you measure your emotional and relationship success by who's not there, rather than who is. I should be a pro by now at spending it alone, but I'm not.  It's one of those days that makes you sad if you're not careful, if your love life isn't flourishing. (I'm addressing those who are in that situation, because all you couples who are kissing and cuddling don't need to worry about Valentine's Day. The rest of us, with imperfect romantic lives, do worry about it. And if you don't get flowers and candy, a proposal, a searing kiss, or some very romantic gesture, you feel like a loser, on that one day anyway.

So here we are, it's that time again. Flowers and candy time. Hearts and flowers time. I told a story on this blog once, of a mass I went to at church on Valentine's Day. The priest asked everyone in church as a couple to raise their hands. Dozens, maybe hundreds of hands shot up, as the couples looked lovingly at each other, and the rest of us shrank into our seats. Then the priest asked the rest of us to applaud the couples, and asked them to stand up so we could see them better. And on the way out of church, he handed each of them a flower, and nothing for the rest of us. No applause, no special introduction, and no flower. I was sure he was going to reward us in some way, and he didn't. I complained about it later, and told the priest later that that part of the service that day made everyone alone in that church feel even worse. I don't think they've done that again since. At the end, not only did we the solitary feel lousy and/or lonely, but the entire church knew who we were, since we were not standing there as a couple, no one was applauding us and we got no flower on the way out. It was a sweet gesture to celebrate the couples, but not very well thought out or comforting to the rest of us, who were alone.

I'm going to be working on a book on Valentine's Day, pounding away on my typewriter, oblivious to what day it is. If I eat chocolates, they'll come out of my fridge. And I'm not anticipating any grand gestures or secret admirers. And I'm so busy when I'm writing that I won't notice what I didn't get. I may never get proposed to again on Valentine's Day, but it will also never get as bad as it did in third grade, with that horrible feeling of rejection when no Valentines appeared. I got through it, and have had a good life since, and a few great Valentine's Days. And maybe I'll have a romantic one again one day, but not this year, unless someone really surprises me.

I wish you candy and flowers today, lots of silly cards that touch your heart, and a happy day. And remember, it is only one day. So if your Valentine's Day doesn't turn out quite as you hoped, or not at all, there is always next year. Try not to get discouraged about it. And no one I know is parading around in marabou or eating bonbons. They are going on with their normal lives, and once in a while there is a big surprise on that day, which we remember forever. I hope your Valentine's Day will be fabulous and romantic. And if it isn't, just consider it an off year. A lot can happen in a year. And in the meantime, will you be my Valentine? I am happy to be yours!!! Have a great day!!!

Love, Danielle

Emotional Support

I just learned something new. As I shared with all of you earlier, in November I got a new puppy, a white long haired teacup Chihuahua, named Minnie Mouse. When I got her, she was ten weeks old and weighed a pound. Now, at 4 months, she has made it to 2 pounds. She is totally adorable, and a really sweet puppy. And she is REALLY tiny. My goal in getting her was to have a dog who could travel with me, when I go back and forth to France. My dogs at home, whom I love, are just over the weight limit (or so I thought) for international travel (12 pounds), so too big to have them with me in the cabin. And Minnie is tiny enough that I can take her in a travel bag, and keep her with me on the plane. (However—–I discovered that a 2 pound dog is like a baby. The stuff I take with me, sweaters in many colors, leashes, collars, dog bowls, blankets, a dog bed, her favorite toys, wee-wee pads, food, and you name it for a very spoiled and pampered dog weighs a LOT more than 2 pounds. Her stuff took up half a suitcase on her first trip with me!!! And one of my daughters gave me a ridiculous pink hat (with holes for her ears); in case it was cold in Paris. So far, Minnie has refused to wear the hat, but I brought that too). You get the picture—tiny dog, silly owner, mountain of stuff to take along in suitcase).

The preparations for international travel to France with a dog were more complicated than I expected. I needed official/stamped health certificates and vaccination papers, both for the airline, and entry into France. In addition, she needed an 'international chip' under her skin that can be scanned by European scanners in case she got lost in France, a US dog license, and a whole lot of paperwork to take along. I got it all lined up, and then for the actual trip, you need a regulation size carrying case (she must be in the case at all times, and can't be removed from it while on the plane). You need a reservation for her travel (no more than 7 pets can be in the cabin on the plane, so they keep track of how many will be travelling on every flight), and you have to pay a small fee. Whew!!! Complicated. But important to comply with the rules. You don't want them quarantining your dog if you don't have the paperwork you need!!!

It took a couple of months to get all the shots, and all the paperwork and certificates in order. She missed one of my trips to France while I was doing that, and finally she was ready. The big day came, and armed with all her documents, I got to the airport for the trip with Minnie. (And no, she wasn't wearing the pink hat. She was wearing a tiny black sweater which she hated and kept getting out of!!)

And when we got to the airport, the first question the airline asked me was "Is she an emotional support dog?"…..uh….what was that question?? I wasn't sure if they were asking me about the purpose of having a dog, in a tiny black sweater, whose equipment took up half of a suitcase. (Maybe someone told them about the hat??).  In response to my blank look at the question, they repeated it with a serious expression. "Is she an emotional support dog?" hmm….well, I certainly love her, she is 2 pounds of adorable puppy, so yes, I guess she provides some kind of emotional support. Ah…they said, that's different. And they asked for a certificate for that as well. Now there's a certificate I did not have. Great wardrobe yes, a gazillion toys, yes, the kind of food she's been eating….proof of her chip and shots, yes…..but no certificate certifying her as an emotional support dog. And then began one of those great conversations of total confusion where two people have no idea (or one person for sure: me) what the other one is talking about. I know about service dogs: like guide dogs for the visually handicapped, and I've even heard of service dogs for people with epilepsy, who are able to detect a seizure before the person can, and can warn the person of the impending seizure. Service dogs of any size can accompany a person on the plane. I haven't seen them often, but I've seen them, very well behaved, and lying at their owner's feet in the cabin.  Well, guess what? Emotional Support Dogs are now in the same category, and are 'official'. The airline representative explained to me that if you tell the airline that you are afraid to fly, and have a certificate testifying to that, you can bring your dog on the plane, in the cabin with you, without a carrier bag, without a reservation, with no size restriction (I guess you could bring a Great Dane or a Saint Bernard), and they can travel with you, free of charge. The size and weight restrictions do not apply (otherwise, for non-support dogs, 12 pounds is the limit for international travel, and I think it's 20 pounds in the States). I was bowled over by that information. For one thing, so many people are nervous about flying, particularly since 9/11, that if they all brought an emotional support dog, the plane would look like Noah's Ark.  I doubt that most people know about that new feature for travelling pets. I'd never heard of it. And I'm sure you still need all the vaccinations and papers even for an emotional support dog. But the airlines really give people a break if they are afraid to fly and feel they need to bring their dog with them. I was really impressed that they don't need to be in a bag (like Minnie—fierce 2 pound attack dog that she is!!), emotional support dogs can be as large a dog as you want, and there is no fee for an emotional support dog (Minnie had to pay $125.00 for the trip).  It was a whole new aspect of pet travel I'd never heard of. Poor Minnie must have felt a little left out, in spite of her sweater, pink collar, many toys, and the pink hat in her suitcase. Actually, on a more serious note, I think it's wonderful that the airlines are so sensitive to nervous flyers (there are several in my family), and recognize that travel with their dogs will bring them comfort. I was really touched and impressed. You have to have paperwork to back it up, and I'm not sure what that is (maybe a letter from a doctor about being afraid to fly?? I didn't ask), but that was a whole new discovery for me!!! And I found it fascinating. So if you see a big dog, lying at the feet of a fellow traveler on a plane, now you'll know why, and what the dog is there for….to lend emotional support. And if you see a ridiculously tiny white dog in a sweater and pink hat……you'll know who that is!!! Miss Minnie!!!

Love, Danielle

Proud Mom

Hi Everyone,

A bit of family news here, my college senior daughter has been going to every concert she can get to for the last ten years. She knows more about the young music scene than anyone I know. And in the last few years she goes to a 'show' or concert every night of the week, and sometimes two shows. And she has decided to share the experience, and her expertise, with others, —she just started a blog called "Zscrossing", telling those who read her blog about the shows she goes to. If there is someone in your family who enjoys the same kind of music she does (loud!!! and a lot younger than what i listen to!!), check out zscrossing. I'm very proud of her!!!  She wants to embark on a career in music production after she graduates, and might like to become a sound engineer or sound technician, after some more studies. Very exciting stuff!!! Take a look at her blog!!! www.zcrossing.com

Love, Danielle

Precious Moments

I just had such a sweet experience that I had to share it with you. One of my daughters went skiing for the weekend, she lives in LA, and I volunteered to baby sit for her very elderly 15 year old dog. And tonight, someone had to meet her at the airport between two flights, to bring her dog for the trip back to LA.  I started a book yesterday, and usually when I write, I don't leave my office (or my home) until I finish. I don't get dressed (I wear warm old nightgowns with sweaters over them—not a pretty sight, but cozy on cold nights), I don't go out, I don't see anyone, I often don't even read phone messages. I just lock myself up until I finish the first draft, because if I stop, I lose the thread of the book (or I think I will), so I stay home and stick with it. I make very rare exceptions except for emergencies (as I used to tell my secretaries, warning them not to interrupt me: that means there has to be fire or blood involved), but I usually try to plan my writing schedule when there won't be interruptions, other obligations, or family events (I often squeeze a book between 2 kids birthdays, or write before or after a holiday like Christmas or Thanksgiving. I plan my writing schedule long in advance). And suddenly tonight, after I'd started the book yesterday, I knew that someone had to take my daughter's dog to the airport, where she had a two hour layover on her way back to LA. Two hours. At the San Francisco airport. Only twenty minutes away. Although someone else could have done it, the temptation was just too great.  I don't see enough of her, and we love being together. Although SF and LA aren't very apart, between her work and mine, and my frequent trips to Paris, and all the books I write, we really have a hard time seeing each other more than once every couple of months, which just isn't enough. I have an easier time seeing my two daughters in NY, because I always stop there for the night, to see them, on my way back and forth to Paris. But for some reason, probably because we're both so busy, LA is just harder to arrange. When I'm free, she isn't, or vice versa, or she gets a freelance job at the last minute (she's a fashion stylist, consultant and editor, busy life), and it's hard to work out. But tonight she was going to be so close. And book or not, there was no way I was going to miss a chance to give her a hug.

So despite the book, and my self-imposed isolation, I got dressed and went to the airport, and took the dog, and it was such a thrill to see her bounce out of the airport after her ski weekend. (Even though I lent her ski clothes she made fun of!! But wore anyway. She had the nerve to call them 'vintage'!!! My favorite ski suits imagine that!!) She climbed into my car, and we spent an hour and a half talking and laughing and gossiping, and chuckling, and having a good time, talking about nothing in particular, and enjoying each other, and even hugging and holding hands, and trying to figure out when we can next see each other. It was just perfect, and really fun, and I was so happy I had decided to go out to the airport, and not worry about the book!! She is sooooo MUCH more important than a book, all of my kids are!!!

The moment came at last when she had to check in for her next flight, and I walked her into the airport with a lump in my throat and an ache in my heart. I hated to see her leave. The little time we had together had been so sweet. We hugged about five more times at the entrance to security, and I reached out for just one more. And then she went through security with her carry-on and her dog. I had tears in my eyes. She's in her 20′s, but they remain our babies forever, no matter how grown up they are. As I stood gazing at her going through security, like a watchful mother hen, an incredibly grumpy security man told me to move away (as though I was a threat to airport security, waving at my daughter, a harmless woman with tears in her eyes.)  I stepped aside, blew a few more kisses and waved again, and that really pissed him off, scowling at me he told me to move far away, and pointed to a distant corner, where I could still see her through the glass wall. He must have had a really bad day, or a miserable life. In any case, I moved, and found myself standing next to a Greek man, waving just as frantically at his daughter, who looked about the same age. "Your daughter?" He asked me and I said yes, "Me too," he said, "she lives in Vancouver". I told him mine lived in LA. And the two of us were waving and blowing kisses at our two girls, who were blowing kisses and waving back. I was suddenly reminded of leaving her on the first day of school in Kindergarten, or standing mesmerized at the window of the hospital nursery where they are so brand new. Nothing had changed. We loved them just as much, and seeing them leave was clearly hard for both of us and our girls. (My family travels a lot, as do I and I normally don't go to airports to see them off, but this special moment was like a gift when I could have an hour or two with my daughter in the midst of her travels, when I might not see her for another month or two).  "They'll always be our babies", the man commented next to me, and we chatted then about how old they are, what they do for work, how often we see them, as we continued to wave through the glass wall, and our girls continued to wave back. And then finally, they passed to the other side of security and we couldn't see them anymore. I saw that the man had the same tears in his eyes that I did, and surely the same lump in his throat, as his daughter disappeared. "Good luck", he said wistfully, and we shook hands…..good luck with watching them grow up….saying goodbye….watching them leave…..standing in an airport all alone, and wishing you could turn the clock back to another time, when they still lived at home, and you never had to say goodbye.  I went back to my car and drove home, thinking how lucky I was to have these precious moments with a child I love, and how blessed I am when I see them, for however little time and far too seldom, living in different cities now from several of them. That 90 minutes of hugging and talking and laughing today really was a gift, an island of joy in a turbulent world. And all I could think was Thank God, I stopped working and went to the airport to see her, even for a short time, even if it slows the flow of "genius" for an hour or two—who cares??? I was so grateful for that time with my daughter, and that I'd been smart enough to seize it, with the excuse of taking her dog. The Greek man I chatted with had the same feeling I did, of how lucky we were. Such tiny precious moments…..I will never forget them, they go in a memory book of motherhood and get tucked deep into my heart. And on the way home, she texted me from the plane, and felt the same way I did, of how lucky we had been to have those precious moments today…..I smiled through my tears when I read it…..what a beautiful day.

Back to Paris

Hi Everyone,

I usually go back to Paris after spending the holidays in San Francisco with my children. I stick around for a week or two after they leave, do some work, and then head back to Paris, to enjoy some more of the winter there. January is kind of a dull month everywhere, the weather is lousy unless you live in a tropical country—it's miserable everywhere else, people are tired after the holidays, partied out, broke after buying presents, and nothing very exciting is going on. For me, it's a great time to work. I work hard all year, especially in winter, so I can take time off in the summer to be with my kids.  But as wintry places go, Paris is a nice place to be in January. Often, it snows, which I love, the big sales are on, which is fun if you want to find a bargain, and the big Haute Couture fashion shows are at the end of January. Many of the big designers have closed and no longer do Haute Couture, and there are only 2 houses left that do couture, Chanel and Dior, other than some new designers that have appeared. And I go to the Chanel Haute Couture shows twice a year in Paris, so I'll be going to that and am looking forward to it. They'll be showing their summer clothes in January. And I love to comb through antique stores, and go to my favorite auction house in Paris, all good winter pursuits. And I enjoy winter evenings with friends, over quiet dinners. There is something very cozy about winter evenings, and I like staying home too, catching up on work, or puttering around the house. I always have a million projects, things I want to move or hang. Or change in the house. So I manage to keep busy on long winter nights. And mostly, I write in the winter, and will be working on outlines, and new books.

I haven't gone skiing in the winter for a couple of years, as my children are spread out and no longer go with me, and it's no fun to go alone. But that was fun too, for a lot of years. And I might go to the snow this year with some friends. It's fun to go on long walks in the snow. I've always been a cowardly skier, and was never a great one, and hurt my back years ago, so I don't ski, but am an enthusiastic supporter. I do après-ski extremely well, and have the wardrobe for it!!! I look like the real deal, even if I'm not. I took my youngest son to a place called Courchevel in France a few years ago, so he could ski (he's a fabulous skier!!) and we had a great time. But he doesn't have time for ski holidays anymore.

So I'll be busy in Paris in January, and am sure I'll find lots to do between bouts of writing. It's a good time to catch up on things at home, and even curl up and do some reading (which I do in summer, when I'm not writing!!!).

I hope your January is off to a good start, and I'm looking forward to a good year ahead. Last year was challenging, and I hope that this year will be easier for us all!!!

Much love, Danielle

A Christmas Story

Hi Everyone,

I hope you survived the holidays, that they were better than expected, and if not, that you're happy they're behind you, and we can move ahead into a new year.

I've been busy. My children were home for ten days, which was absolutely wonderful; we had a good time together. And although we all dreaded this Christmas, as the first one without their father, we got through it, and it turned out to be much sweeter than expected, with a few tears and many bittersweet memories, and some real fun too. (We played games at the dinner table on Christmas Eve this year, with some fairly rude prizes, and laughed a lot. Irreverence and laughter was the perfect antidote to sadness, and carried the day.) And being together as a family was a real blessing.

Since then, I have been working very hard on a new book, and doing a huge amount of writing, which I usually do at this time of year.

I don't have any important news to share with you, and am deep in my work, as I always am at this time of year. And I don't know why, but I remembered a Christmas story tonight from a few years ago, and thought I'd share it with you. It made me laugh out loud, remembering the moment.

Shopping always relaxes me (even at a hardware store or a drug store, and I'm in heaven at a shoe store, even if I only buy a pair of sneakers. Shoes always cheer me up. And no, the story on the internet about my having 6,000 pairs of shoes is not true—-although I wish I did. But yes, I do like shoes.), in any case, I like to shop and there is a lovely store in New York where I buy really nice sheets every few years, and tablecloths. It's an Italian store, and they have really pretty things. And usually, on Christmas, they send me a small gift, a little baby pillow for my head, with a pretty pillow case, something like that. And I always like what they send me.  And because I like to shop, sometimes stores send me a little gift for the holidays. And I am always very well behaved and save all the gifts I get until Christmas Eve, and open them then. So even if I get a gift from a store, I don't open it until Christmas, and I save my little stack of gifts until it's okay to open them. I don't cheat and open them early.

A few years ago, however, I was feeling sorry for myself a week or ten days before Christmas, and my little stack of gifts from friends, people I do business with, and a few stores, was sitting in my bedroom, and I noticed a package in the distinctive wrapping of the Italian linen store in New York that sends me a pretty gift every year. And I lay there in bed, thinking, oh what the hell, who will know…..and I confess: I cheated and decided to open their gift early. It was quite a big box, which was unusual, but I thought maybe they'd been even more generous than usual. And feeling like a sneaky kid, I hopped out of bed and opened their gift about 10 days early. And WOW!!! What a gift!!! It wasn't a pillow case; it was an absolutely fabulous cashmere (!!!!!) bed cover, in a soft oatmeal beige. I am always frozen at night, so it was really the perfect gift. I was stunned that they had sent me such a beautiful gift. There was no card, just the wrapping from the store, but I hadn't ordered anything from them, so it was obviously my annual Christmas gift. And it happened to be a freezing cold night, and I put it on my bed and snuggled under it with delight, really pleased at the fabulous gift. Further confessions: When I was married, I was very circumspect in my bedroom, I didn't smoke in the bedroom, didn't sleep with my dogs (or no more than one of them, I had two then), didn't eat in bed, so as not to offend my husband. But living alone, I have developed some really bad habits I enjoy: I smoke in my bedroom, as long as I'm wide awake, read until all hours; if I get hungry, I eat cookies in bed, or whatever else I decide to eat, and often all four of my dogs sleep on my bed, or at least one or two. If I ever live with a man again, I'll behave, but for now I don't have to and can do whatever I want. So as soon as I put the gorgeous cashmere cover on my bed, my dogs hopped onto it with delight, and I cuddled up under it, smoking, and even had a cup of soup, and spilled a little on the cover. I made myself right at home with my new bedspread!!!

I thoroughly enjoyed my new bedspread for the next 10 days, til Christmas, the dogs slept on it, I slept under it, I dropped a few ashes here and there, some cookie crumbs, a drop or two of soup. I made myself totally comfortable, and couldn't imagine how I had lived without a cashmere bedspread until then. It was my largest and certainly most luxurious gift!!!  And after I'd been happily living with it for about 10 days, my oldest daughter called me, quite annoyed, and said that she had ordered a cashmere bedspread from that same store, months before, and it had never come. Had it shown up at my house instead?  Uh…ummm……bedspread??? CASHMERE bedspread?…..hmmmm….uh oh. I suddenly realized that my fabulous new gift was not a gift at all, but I'd been happily living on her new bedspread, and there had been nothing on the package to indicate that it was her order, and not a gift for me. Oh…..shit. We were of course talking about the bedspread I had been living with, smoking over, eating on, and that my dogs had come to love too. I was in deep trouble there. My oldest daughter is rabid about smoking, and won't even be in the same building with it, does not approve of four dogs in bed, and I'm certain that she has never eaten Oreo cookies in bed (she has a husband. Everything is a trade off in life; you either get a husband in your bed, or get to eat Oreo cookies at midnight.).   I confessed immediately, told her I had thought it was a gift from the store, and that I had been living with her new bedspread for the past 10 days, and offered to have it cleaned immediately. She was horrified and not happy with me. She assured me that no amount of cleaning would exorcise the smoke, dogs, and cookies, not to mention the soup I had spilled on it (just a little) the first night. And she had waited months for it to come.  If she could have seen me happily living on her bedspread, she would have had a stroke. As it was, she wasn't too happy. The end of the story was that she ordered another one, and I wound up buying the one I had adopted illegally. And to tell you the truth, I love it, and am still living with it, and probably will for years. But if you could have seen me living it up on her bedspread, and my face when she asked if I had seen it…..bedspread??? What bedspread??? Oh THAT bedspread…..you would have laughed too. I still laugh when I think about it. It was expensive when I had to buy it, but well worth it…..and I still chuckle when I see it, and drop a few more Oreo crumbs on it, as my dogs lie happily across the bed, and I smoke while reading a book…..to each his own, and there are more ways than one to get a new bedspread….I would never have bought such an elegant one for myself, but I'm glad I did. Now I'm more careful when I open Christmas gifts, and make sure that they are in fact for me.  I hope you liked your gifts this year too!!!

Much love, Danielle

Writing

Hi everyone,

I get so busy sometimes, talking to you about other things, holidays, children, new dogs, relationships, travel, music, art that I rarely talk to you about writing. And in reading your comments at the end of my blogs, I see that you have a number of comments and questions that I thought I'd address here.

Most of you wrote extremely kind comments about my work, which really warm my heart. I work incredibly hard on the books, I try to make them varied and different on different subjects (you noticed!!! thank you!!!), and do very, very thorough research, whether they are historical or contemporary books. And it really means a lot to me that you notice and you care. You each have a favorite book, which are also varied and different, depending on what resonates for you, and what you're personally going through. Many of you have offered to tell me your stories so I can turn them into a book, but I never write real people's stories. I prefer to rely on my own imagination, although I often use things I've learned, the feeling of experiences I've had (like losing my son, or great joys), and emotions I've experienced, even if I use them differently than they actually happened. I am fascinated by the human condition, and human relationships of all kinds, between friends, between lovers, spouses, siblings, parent and child, even co-workers. I like what happens between people, how we impact each other, good and bad, and how we respond to the stresses in our lives, whatever they are. And those experiences are universal, we have all dealt with people we care about, or difficult families, or children, or friends, or relationships, and we've either been hurt or blessed or helped by those experiences. I feel strongly about what I write, which I think is why you do too. And it rings real for you, because all the emotions in it are real, and some of the experiences, so it rings real for me as I write it, and for you when you read it.

One of you asked how I can do the research, with all those kids (mine) running around. Unfortunately, they're not running around anymore. The youngest is in college, the others are in their first jobs, and only one still lives at home. And they are running around their own lives now, I'm no longer driving carpool, or taking anyone to ballet lessons, or watching lacrosse games. I wish I were. I still spend a lot of time with them all, when they have time to see me in their busy lives, but my days are my own now. I'm not having dinner with them every night as I used to, or picking them up at school. And I miss those days. When they were little, at home and in school. I worked during their school hours, then picked them all up at school, and stayed busy with them til after dinner, and after their homework was on track and underway, and then I worked/wrote at night. I didn't sleep a lot, and still don't. I got used to short nights, and I still work til late at night, when it's quiet and I have fewer distractions, and the phone doesn't ring every five minutes.  As for the actual research, which there is a lot of for every book, I have a fantastic researcher who has seen me through all 121 books, and is fabulous with both historical and contemporary research (like about locations, or an industry). She does the basic research and then passes it on to me to read, and process, and include what I need in the books. She narrows it down for me, so I can concentrate on what she gives me. I have worked with her since my first book. She is an amazing woman!!!

There is a question that none of you asked, but I'll answer anyway. Some fans have written in the past asking who writes my books. I was stunned the first time I was asked that question. Who writes my books? Are you kidding? I do. Every word. I was shocked at the question, I even mentioned it to my agent who informed me that some very major writers actually hire writers now to write their books and the authors just give them the outlines. I can't even imagine that, and it seems like cutting corners in a major way to me. I write every word of my books, and do all the editing and correcting. There are no gnomes or elves in my basement or attic. I do all the work myself!!!

Will I ever write a sequel? No. I've been asked a lot, even by my publisher. I think sequels are an invitation to disappointment. I don't like comparisons, and would rather do something new every time. When I finish a book, that story is over for me.

One of you asked how many times my first book was turned down. It's actually worse than that. I was turned down by my first agent, who told me to forget writing and do something else——and that agent pretended, once I got successful, that they'd never met me or told me that. But that person did, and I was heartbroken. A friend referred me to another agent, who read my book and signed me up the next day, and believed in my work. I was 19 years old then. She sold that first book very quickly, it came out in original paperback, and by the time it came out, I had already written another one. And that's when things got tough. The next five books did not sell, ever, and never have. I still have them, and probably someone will publish them one day after I'm gone. I have moved on, and rarely look back at books, so I've just put those five away, for my kids to do what they want with one day. The 7th book I wrote was a novelization, that means it was actually a screenplay for a movie (that I didn't write), and they wanted to sell a book of it when the movie came out. So I turned the screenplay into a book, and that was the book that started the ball rolling again, and I've been published ever since. It was a good lesson for me though, because I had 5 unpublished books, and if I had given up before the 7th one, I would never have the career I do today; it was a great lesson in persistence!!!

One funny topic that came up in emails from you was sex. Years ago, I got a letter from an 11 year old reader who complained that there wasn't enough sex in my books!!! Wow.  No one has complained since, but certainly sex isn't the main focus of my books. With only a couple of exceptions, there are always some sex scenes in my books, although I hope they are tastefully handled, and they have to make sense with the characters and the story. But I write about real things that happen, unfortunately people do cheat on each other, or take advantage of others. There is a rape scene in "A Good Woman", and those things happen too. My main characters tend to be decent people (except when they are intentionally male or female villains), who do their best in life, like the rest of us. And when I write about 'bad' people, it's clear that that's what they are. But in the recent comments to the blogs, one woman complained that I write about immoral events and people, that I shouldn't be writing about cheating, or other immoral acts, and that all the sex should be between married people. Fortunately or unfortunately, that's not part of real life today, and as a writer I chronicle the kind of real life experiences many of us have, or that exist in the real world. So I write about a broader spectrum, and I take a stand for integrity on all subjects. And I can't satisfy every reader, and purify a world that isn't pure in the real world. But that one reader considered me highly immoral!!! I'm sorry about that, but the books are more meaningful if they report accurately on what happens in the world today. We may not like what some people do, but they do it nonetheless. As I said, integrity is important to me, and being tasteful. I try not to offend anyone with what I write, and it always has to make sense in the story.

Another reader who answered the blogs complained that my stories aren't more religious. I'm actually a religious person, personally, but I don't feel right imposing it on anyone else. That's a very, very personal thing, and once again, my stories would be much too limited if they only centered around a religious theme. Again, it's about integrity and values, but I don't think it would be fair to my non-religious readers to focus on only religious themes. I try to stay away from religion and politics as a good rule of thumb, although once in a while religion may become part of the story, if I write about nuns. But I try to keep things varied and not offend anyone.

I hope that answers some of your questions, and as you read this, I'll be starting a new book!!! Thank you for reading them, and for all your wonderful comments!!!

Love, Danielle