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Introducing our new article series with writer Maha Harada. Dive deeper into the world of pearls through her essays and stories exclusive to Mikimoto.
Vol.2
A round crescent moon
It’s been 10 years since Paris became my second home. I now split my time between Tokyo and Paris, traveling back and forth roughly every two months. You’d expect the initial excitement to have worn off by now, however enchanting the City of Lights may be, but I somehow still get the same joy as when I first set my foot here.
Every morning, I’m stunned by the view of the town when I open the shutters in my apartment, and I find a renewed sense of gratitude whenever I open the door and step out onto the street.
The fact that I exist, breathe, and live in this city has been a miracle in itself in my mind. And this is all without Paris even trying to impress me. I’ve just naturally become enamored. That’s the magic of this city.
In Paris, you’ll notice the changing seasons in your skin before anything else. The air becomes milder as spring approaches, and the cold winds bite at your face when it’s autumn. The sunlight becomes so intense in the summer that it roasts the back of your neck, while in winter, the sun becomes sluggish and spends most of the day tucked inside its big blanket of clouds.
Take just one step out of the house and your body will immediately sense a unique atmosphere. An air of intelligence that only ancient cities carry, not to mention the hint of elegance here and there. The picture-perfect scenery of Paris gives it an unmistakable vibe of its own. I can’t walk along the streets of this city without being intrigued by its magnificence.
Of course, the seasons of Paris are also a feast for the eyes. Spring begins with the arrival of bright lemon-yellow mimosa in flower shops. Every florist will display bunches of mimosa in the front row, greeting passersby as if to say, “It’s springtime!”
Unfortunately, cut mimosa have a short lifespan and wilt after only two or three days, but that doesn’t stop Parisians from buying them. I’ve seen people cycling through town with their basket full of mimosa — yes, just like a scene out of a movie.
Summer transforms the banks of the Seine into pop-up beaches as part of Paris Plages. This event was born from the innovative idea of bringing the beach to Paris for residents who aren’t going on a resort vacation. Launched around the time when I started regularly coming to Paris, the temporary beaches are now a well-loved summer tradition.
I also like to spend the long, endless summer evenings watching the people gathered at a cafe on the corner of the street, all chatting away. It gives me a solo evening that never feels lonely.
Autumn takes its time to settle down. The sun which had been embracing the whole town with warmth gradually loses its strength day by day. Meanwhile, the glistening green leaves of roadside horse chestnut trees take on a brown tint before they eventually flutter down and land on the shadows of houses cast over the cobblestone pavement.
By then, Parisians will be out and about sporting a different look. Bundled up in their coats, you’ll see them hanging out in a cafe with a good wine or coffee, again chatting away endlessly.
Winter is here before you know it. Heavy snowfall is rare, but our breath will be as white as pure snow.
Roast chestnut vendors become a common sight at the foot of bridges. Blue smoke rises from their stone stove as the delicious smell of roasted chestnuts wafts through the air.
Over on Champs-Élysées, Christmas market stalls take over the avenue while roadside trees are adorned with illuminations that evoke a starry night.
Supermarkets become busy with families buying their Christmas trees. A father comes out of the store carrying a Christmas tree as the kids run past him in uncontainable joy.
There’s never a day when I don’t feel excited walking through this city. I’m always looking out for the transition of the seasons, searching discreetly but passionately for any opportunity to connect with Paris.
One day in early summer, I bought a little something while I was out on a walk. Opéra Garnier is a historical monument considered one of the highlights of Paris. Stretching from that opera house is a street called Rue de la Paix (Peace Street), which leads to the Tuileries Garden. Although not a main street, it runs through Place Vendôme and Rue Saint-Honoré as it takes you to the Tuileries Garden, boasting views that are hard to beat.
In this area is a boulangerie that’s famous for their “croissants that you have to queue an hour for.” I decided to join their long queue. Not having had breakfast, I was already hungry, but this croissant would make the perfect addition to my brunch when I get home, I told myself.
The store only bakes croissants once in the morning so when they sell out, that’s it for the day. As I was waiting for my turn, the customer right before me asked for a whole bunch of croissants, making me sweat with anxiety. To my great relief, I was able to buy the last one left.
Contrary to the name croissant (meaning "crescent" in French), this croissant wasn’t shaped like a crescent moon. Instead, it was so uniquely large and round that I wanted to give it the new name of “pleine lune” (French for “full moon”).
The store’s mademoiselle delicately put the last remaining croissant into a cake box and handed it over. Having obtained my prized treat, I resisted the urge to munch on it there and then, and left the boulangerie.
Glancing at my watch, I noticed that the queue really did take an hour. Feeling thrilled that I’ve gotten my hands on something extraordinary, I continued walking down Rue de la Paix to reach Place Vendôme.
It wasn’t my first time visiting Place Vendôme, but it’s one of those few places that make me straighten up my back as soon as I step inside.
The octagonal, almost circular square was constructed as a monument to embody the glory of Louis XIV. A large column erected by Napoleon to mark his military victory at Austerlitz stands right in the center. And the square is home to an impressive range of luxurious jewellers, boutiques, and hotels. I wonder if there’s a more prestigious address in the world than Place Vendôme.
For the very first time, I started taking a leisurely stroll around the square, browsing the windows of high-end jewellers one after another. In Paris, I often see people looking intently at store windows. Whether they sell shoes, jewellery, or something else, Parisians know that window displays are made to be looked at.
I found myself stopping in front of a particular display. There, a flawless pearl strand necklace sat inside the silent, serene storefront.
The necklace was flaunting a soft white color reminiscent of morning mist and a pure glow resembling morning dew. I was completely captivated. As I admired the pearls that looked like they had become spherical in the course of nature, I felt my hunger slowly creeping up.
The box of croissant was still in my hand. I suddenly got tempted to get the croissant out and start biting into it, but I managed to fight off the urge. I then quietly left the storefront and quickly made my way to the Tuileries Garden.
When I got there, I sat on one of the green steel chairs scattered throughout the garden and finally opened the box I had been carefully carrying around.
I took out the croissant and gave it a good look under the sunlight shining through the horse chestnut trees. I was again surprised that there could be such a perfectly round, puffed-up croissant. No longer holding back, I took a big bite. The crunchy texture on the outside. The buttery aroma. The subtle sweetness inside. It was heavenly.
Then, into my mind came this vision of a classy white-haired madame gracefully taking a bite of croissant while gazing at that pearl necklace displayed in Place Vendôme.
She finishes the whole croissant and nonchalantly walks into the store. I could see the scene vividly although this was all in my imagination.
But hang on – is there anyone in this world who can eat a croissant in a graceful manner? The thought of this question made me chuckle. And that vision stayed with me for the entire day, filling my mind with a sense of bliss and harmony.
Maha HARADA
b. 1962 Tokyo, Japan
Based between Tokyo, Paris, Kyoto, and Nagano, Maha Harada is a creative visionary and exceptional storyteller who has produced world-class, category-defying writing.
Harada is one of the founding curators of Tokyo’s acclaimed Mori Art Museum; when it was established, she was sent to represent the Museum as a project researcher at its principal cultural partner, The Museum of Modern Art, New York. It is for this reason that Maha Harada is renowned as Japan’s leading creator of art novels and art entertainment.
She is among Japan’s most talked-about writers and creatives, and her extraordinary experiences give her an unparalleled ability to blend art and literature. Harada’s art novels journey into the past to breathe fresh life into some of the world’s most beloved artists, who still enchant countless people today. These stories transcend time and generation crossing the boundaries of nation and region. At the same time, they are rooted in the experiences of a woman born and raised in Japan.
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