You're Full of It

Your weekly distractions are served…

We don’t mean to put a damper on Valentine’s Day, but the chances of most of us receiving an actual love letter this year are slim to none. These days, text messaging and multiple social media platforms have seen to it that emojis come before real emotions, but today we’d like to pay tribute to hand-written romance as it becomes increasingly rare. With any luck, it might just inspire some of us to put pen to paper. From the forbidden to the filthy, these are best of a lost art…

You could see Juliet's statue and her courtyard... or you could be her secretary, responding to letters asking for love advice.

Dr. Samuel Pozzi may be a father of modern gynaecology, whose name is still tied to a pair of surgical scissors used to operate on fallopian tubes around the world today (the pozzi forceps), but his story would be much better placed in a steamy romance novel than a medical textbook. The “disgustingly handsome” celebrity surgeon, so declared by the Princess of Monaco, was chummy with the likes of Marcel Proust, Oscar Wilde, and the Parisian bohemian upper crust, and had so many high profile affairs, he earned himself the nickname “the love doctor” around town. Adding to our ‘who’s who’ of Belle Epoque Paris, let’s meet this irresistible ladies’ man, but also, remind ourselves why it’s never a good idea to date your gynaecologist.

A timeless, unisex pyjama for those who believe inspiration strikes hardest at 2AM, ideal for “working on your manuscript” or dramatically sighing at your blank notebook, these pyjamas are worthy of a Left Bank literary salon — if salons were hosted in bed. On the chest pocket, delicate embroidery reads: “WRITERS, READ

There were some things that were just accepted in the 80s and Barbara Cartland’s cookbook was one of them. Published in 1984, The Romance of Food features over 170 pages of kitschy technicolour plates that were all photographed at Cartland’s own Hertfordshire estate (the former home of Beatrix Potter), using her own antique porcelain and knick-knacks alongside the food.

Once upon a time, a knight was really pissed off. He had just discovered that his wife took a lover, and naturally, sought revenge in a joust to the death with his rival. But even that victory wasn’t enough to quench his rage, so he cut out the heart of his wife’s lover and gave it to his personal chef with specific instructions: cook this into a ragout for my wife. Sure enough, that night she licked her plate clean. And so goes a ye olde legend that is both Patrick Bateman-level crazy, and reaffirms how deeply rooted the heart’s role is as a powerful – and dangerous – symbol of love. But how did it get to the V-Day greeting card aisle, all the way from the era of chivalry – and what did it symbolise before that? When did the heart beat for love?

In the Spring of 1908, three women walked onto the Longchamp racecourse in Paris and jaws dropped. The elite society event was known for debuting the latest couture creations to the public, but no one had seen fashion quite like this before. Dressed in blue, white and havane brown creations, according to newspapers, spectators called the three women a “monstrosity”, accused them of being semi-naked and showing revolting décolletage. It was these three dresses however, which would forever change fashion that day and launch the twentieth century silhouette. As for the designer? Well, no one really bothered to remember her name…

For more than a hundred years, people have speculated wildly at the events surrounding this double suicide – or murder suicide –– depending on whom you ask. One thing seems to be consistent, though: through the butterfly effect, these untimely deaths not only symbolized the destabilization of European monarchies, but they had global repercussions.

She was the model and artist turned war correspondent. He was one of Surrealism’s most iconic figures. Together, Lee Miller and Man Ray lived a fiery romance, set to the backdrop of 1930s Paris. So naturally, we’re keen to relive their story…