Surviving the salon

Even though it's now been 24 hours since I left the last session of the Salon Maison&Objet, I'm still trying to keep my feet elevated to help them to recover from the trauma. No, I haven't been getting massaged or shampooed. Salon means "expo"--not beauty spa--in French.

Twice a year--in September and again in January--66,000 visitors converge on Paris to see the offerings of over 3000 exhibitors in the world's biggest decorating/home and garden/gift trade show. Why do I categorize the expo in such an ungainly way? Because I can't think of any other means of translating the name Maison & Objet--literally, "House and Object." It's the "object" part that's the killer, because it includes everything that in the U.S. would fall under the "gift show" category, plus a lot more.

The show is held at the ultra-modern Parc des Expositions, near the Roissy-Charles de Gaulle airport on the north side of the city. It consists of seven mammoth (meaning, stretching to the horizon) halls fanned out along a common hallway. Personnel make their way around the premises on nifty, silent electric motor scooters. If only they rented the d..d things!

Needless to say, you can't cover all of this event in one day. I usually go for two days, and I only see a fraction of the show, which runs for five consecutive days. I'm more efficient than I used to be, back in the days when I didn't have any clear idea of what I was looking for and felt I needed to browse the entire show.

Nevertheless, going to Maison&Objet requires a certain amount of preparation and a set of special survival skills. I'll start with the most important variable first: shoes. Covering the salon means walking several miles in dry, hot "weather." Since my feet are the most problematic part of my anatomy (my right foot being just over a year post-op), I give careful consideration to this question.

My choice of shoes is complicated by the fact that there is a certain unwritten dress code for going to Maison&Objet. It is, after all, a Paris Event. That is to say, hardly anyone would attend dressed in blue jeans--hardly anyone over the age of 22, that is. What I'm getting at is that my shoes need to be at once chic and comfortable. Although I know my feet will be in agony by the end of the day, I'd rather that the agony level be minimal than maximal. I settle on a pair of black Hogan boots (since it's snowy and rainy out) that are sort of like jodhpur riding boots.

The corollary to comfortable/chic shoes, at least if you're my age, is a pair of "airplane socks"--tight elastic knee socks designed to prevent blood from pooling in your feet. Know that by the end of the day, 90% of your blood will be right there--in your feet.

The next issue to consider is How Much to Carry. I wanted to take photos, so my camera was a must. In addition, there's my purse, of course. What makes it so heavy I'll never know. I analyze the contents and remove everything nonessential for the day. (Every ounce counts!) Finally, the most taxing piece of baggage I won't pick up until I get to the show, and this piece will get heavier and heavier as the day wears on. This is the bag I'll be given at the entry, into which I'll drop countless catalogues and price lists on thick glossy paper (read, heavy), as well as the 736-page, 1 1/2 kilogram (and I'm notkidding) catalog to the show.

And now, just a word about this bag. For you'll not see me walking around the show with that cruddy plastic red-and-black, M&O bag that everyone else has. Oh no! For I am a member of the oh-so-elite (all bow down, please) PRESS! That's right. As a member of the Garden Writers Association, I get a free press pass to the show, as well as a free catalog (already, I've saved upwards of 70 euros), free coat check, and free Espace Press (meaning, a place with actual chairs to sit in while I sip my free juice, Evian, or coffee).



Along with all these goodies comes the press bag, which in this equally press-crazed and shopping-bag obsessed culture, is a status-laden prize. Not only that, but carrying it will enable the exhibitors to recognize at a glance that I am a member of the elite and revered PRESS and that I cannot be prevented from taking photographs of their trade secrets. Last fall the bag was a great white plastic cabas style bag (right), complete with zippered compartments inside and out. Great for the beach, but my verdict was that it added several unneeded ounces to the toll on my shoulder. This year, the bag is a much lighter silky nylon, in a spring-y swimming pool blue. Both bags of course are emblazoned with the M&O motto: Paris, Capitale de la Création.



The final issue in preparation for the M&O marathon is What to Wear. Most of the show's halls have a climate reminiscent of the Sahara in midsummer, but zones near the outside walls are glacial. The solution is to have light layers which can be easily removed and tied around the waist to adjust to climatic variations. At the same time, these layers need to be sufficiently chic so that the people you talk with will feel you are sufficiently respectful of the magnitude of the M&O event.

It's quicker to take the RER train to the expo than to drive, and that's just what I do. When the train spits me out at the station that is about 1500 feet from the expo halls, I take a special shuttle which runs relays around to the back of Hall 5B, where the press entrance is. Once I walked instead of taking the shuttle, and it took me about an hour. Never again. I was worn out before I even started walking through the show itself. The shuttle (or navette) also picks up and lets off people in the 12 different parking lots around the hinterlands around the expo halls.

Once I've got my free badge, I'm off into the oh-so-cool, very design world of Hall 5B, the most elite address of M&O. In the franglais patois of the Paris design world, this hall is called "Now! design à vivre." In this chic-est of M&O neighborhoods, the exhibitors' stands are large and the overall impression is of spaciousness and infinite COOL. A special sort of free-form ambient music makes you feel sure that you are so with it to even be here. You are truly at the center of the design universe.



Integrated into Hall 5B is a television studio which broadcasts nonstop, as well as several cutting-edge design displays. One of these, titled "Appel d'air" (Call of Air), displays various pieces of inflatable furniture and decorative objects using air as part of their structure. The whole thing is softly lit and punctuated with whirring pink fans pointed toward the observer. Très design.



Most of the stands in this hall feature the cream of the crop of new designers, which is to say that the feel is very contemporary. One of my favorite new talents, James Heeley, had some new vases on show under the label 'Artoria', as well as under his own name. I found the elegant ellipses of his work under Artoria nothing short of exquisite (photo below right).







Many new designs capitalized on this sort of minimalist elegance, while maintaining a strong sense of creativity and innovation. Look at this simple combination photophore and vase (below left), allowing you to combine the charm of vegetal material with the powerful symbol of flame.





Humor and especially a sense of playfulness are intrinsic to French contemporary design. Both were in evidence in this contemporary chair and matching tote sac, in toile de Jouy colored in neon tones. The designer is poking fun at the sacrosanct, traditional toile de Jouy, so overused in decorating, by coloring in its figures in glaring, modern, clashing colors (photo below right).





Some of the biggest and most intriguing exhibits showed only tantalizing glimpses from the outside. You had to be tempted enough by the exterior presentation to enter the exhibit and actually view the products. The very successful Lampes de Berger (photo below left), arty home perfume diffusers, were housed in just such a high class address.





Other stands used a more time-honored means of luring customers into their stands--FOOD! All show-weary visitors are--or at least have the impression that they are--in dire need of calories. But no way a casual passer-by like me could snitch one of these tempting French macarons (below right) without engaging in a serious order process (alas!) It was amazing to observe the way food was always strategically positioned within the stands to prevent gratuitous hit-and-runs.



After perusing as much as I could, I was left with one lingering impression: the primary importance and appeal of organic, vegetal forms in design. If all representations of plants were banned, I'm sure there would have remained less than half of the exhibits present. Leaf, bark, stem, flower, fruit--even root--all parts of the plant are celebrated in fashion and interior design. Whether in the mad flowers of Missoni fabrics for the home, or in this wall display of a fantasy of blossoms and colored bark wheels which captivated countless visitors,




or in the new-mown-grass-scented candles in the main photo, vegetation dominated this world's largest design expo. This tells me that people's resonance with and need for the vegetal is stronger than ever, and as gardeners we have our finger on the pulse of the past as well as the future. We all--even in the midst of the largest cities and the fastest pace--need a "chlorophyll pause."

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