fresh off the pointy-shoe clad streets of paris where skirts of lavender and violet played tag in the wind, my ever-fashionable friend, niloofar, air-france’d back the best, most-french souvenir of all:

ladurée macarons.


prettier than any box of tiffany blue or hermes orange, this gilded, mint-lilac, coffer of kindness is the perfect keepsake for holding jewelry, lipsticks or paperclips for storage so pretty.


that pretty goodness flourishes into incroyable once the package is opened.

eight flavors of the lightest, double-decked creme filled macarons on the planet; each in their own, gorgeous shade of lovely.

there’s something delectably ladylike about nibbling on ladurée petit-biscuits; leave it to the french to invent a mouth-watering treat which renders a “pinkies up” and ankles crossed reaction.


leave it to me to put my own, american spin on the ritual.

what’s NOT ladylike is face-cramming the whole box down one’s throat, whilst hiding in the bathroom;

thank you my darling niloofar. you spoil me rotten, and i love you for it.

à tout à l’heure mes amis!