Oh yes â Iâm that person who runs to the bakery in the morning with a handbag, lipstick and styled hair.
Beautiful, right? Chapeau to everyone who makes that happen.
Tonight at the bar: one of the greats â Auguste Escoffier.
If you come from hospitality or gastronomy, you surely know his name. He was, in a way, the Steve Jobs of fine dining (1846â1935) and became 89 years old.
A soft black cushion from KARE, adorned with a delicately embroidered bee đ â a gentle reminder of sweetness, honey, and the quiet art of handwork.
Today it pairs with my black lace blazer; a hint of red on the lips and red ballerinas â my little rebellion against going all in black. Still, some days simply call for that back in black feeling. They say black symbolizes strength, mystery, and elegance â so why not embrace it? đ¤
Because in France, age isnât something you are â itâs what you become.
In German and English we say: âI am 53 years old.â
It sounds like age is simply an attribute â something attached to you.
But in French they say: âJâai 53 ansâ â âI have 53 years.â
And that little shift changes everything.
I had long wanted to visit the Fondation Carmignac on the island of Porquerolles â the largest of the Ăles dâHyères near Toulon. Itâs said to be one of the most beautiful islands in the Mediterranean.
We were lucky: a mild autumn day, a pleasant number of visitors, and our dogs in top form. A day of hiking, a boat ride, fresh sea air, culture, and breathtaking scenery. Yes, life is beautiful. It takes about 45 minutes to walk to the famous Notre-Dame Beach â that postcard-perfect view is world-renowned. I believe even Monet once painted this very scene.
At the Fondation Carmignac, we were captivated by the kaleidoscope installation overlooking the garden, and by Feelings by Jean-Baptiste Bernadet â Vertigo. (Just like the U2 song of the same name â such a cool theme, full of motion and emotion.)
Enjoy this souvenir of sunshine, movement, art, and nature.
Nothing is harder than trying to please everyone. At 53, let me share something with you: every year it gets easier to stand true to yourself. And honestly, Iâm deeply grateful for the person Iâve become. Iâve lived a lot. Iâve learned a lot. Iâve got stories, scars, and laughter â and I wouldnât trade any of it. I am me. And yes, I like me.
In the past, I often wished life would calm down â fewer ups and downs, less turbulence. Did that happen? No. And today, Iâm glad it didnât. Because peace isnât the absence of motion; itâs the ability to find stillness within it. I appreciate moments of harmony now, and Iâm profoundly thankful that Iâve learned to walk away from people who drain me instead of give me energy. That, Iâm convinced, is one of lifeâs greatest medicines as you grow older.
A total change of scenery â switching hemispheres, yet still on the same earth. This time: Australia. đ
Iâve travelled a lot, but somehow never made it here when I was younger. Back then, hotels werenât quite ready to tackle the visa maze, and so the dream stayed tucked away â somewhere between curiosity and possibility. Years later, with age, a little patience, and family ties (my step-daughter lived there), I finally went. What followed was a journey of beauty, questions, and humility â a reminder of how vast and fragile our planet truly is.
Please swipe slowly â itâs worth it.
Have you noticed this too when coming back from France? Itâs not just that driving on French highways feels like pure ease â calm drivers, long stretches of road framed by fields and vineyards. Even the smallest encounters seem touched by something softer.
A quick stop at the bakery, for example, can turn into a quiet reminder of grace: a grateful wave when you let someone merge into traffic, a patient smile as two cars negotiate a narrow village street, a cheerful âbonjour, Madameâ or âmerci, Monsieurâ that feels sincere. These gestures may seem ordinary, but together they weave a rhythm of gentleness that lingers long after youâve left.
I absolutely love it â because those little gestures of kindness are the best happiness boosters. They donât cost anything, yet they enrich everything. Itâs as if the sun you share with someone else ends up shining right back on your own face.
The art of gardening is not only about craft and hard work. After all â what good is the most beautiful garden if the gardener never sits down to enjoy it? Amid all the pruning, planting, and perfecting, we often forget that the truest reward lies not in the labor, but in the quiet moment that follows.
And today, a pearl of the Arts & Crafts movement: Tim Oulton in London. Back when we set up our hotel THE STARNBERGSEE HIDEAWAY, we furnished it almost entirely with this brand â simply timeless and unique pieces. Everything is handcrafted with the finest materials.
Enjoy browsing â and if something catches your eye, feel free to reach out to me.
PS: For me, Arts & Crafts in todayâs world means celebrating craftsmanship, authenticity, and beauty that stands the test of time. Another reason for „becauseofmyage“ – aging interior meets aging ladies đ
