Rendez-vous at Hotel Raphael

For our rendez-vous at Hotel Raphael “ce soir”, I opted for my very black, slim, clinging dress, and discreetly plunging neckline – showing off my blond skin – topped with a waist-hugging, fur-collared black jacket.  I completed the look with a dramatic, potently effective, provocative black hat, with a small, sheer black veil – completing the look with a pair of black suede high healed boots.

While putting the finishing touches on my “maquillage” (charcoal slate eye make-up, with pale ivory skin), I was reminded of Marlene Dietrich in her Joseph von Sternberg 1932 movie, “Shanghai Express”.

Driving my black Jeep “quat-quat”, I dabbed a bit of my favourite, mysterious and enigmatic perfume.  Heady…

Upon arriving at the Raphael, I was escorted to the Hotel by two welcoming doormen and ushered down the long corridor, which was filled with magnificent, huge Artworks as well as Antique commodes and “fauteuils”.

The elegant, diamond-shaped, black and white marble, with luxurious carpeting, gave the flooring that plush and hushed entrance into the “Bar Anglais”.

The rendez-vous was with a tall, ruggedly handsome, peppery haired, highly cultured man – the love of my life…

As I plunged through the Deep red velvet curtains draping the entrance of the room, my senses were enhanced by the beauty of the lounge which I encountered before me.

It was a room filled with passion, colour, texture, atmosphere, and ambience, with huge, deep red couches, low round tables, dark carpeting, with the most beautiful bar.

Dazzling like a jewel – with its mirrors, enticing bottles of all sorts and colours of liqueurs, spirits, wines, champagnes, etc., and a charming chandelier to off-set the velvety red décor.

It took my breath away.

I glided toward – my love.

Walking towards me, looking at me with admiration, he enveloped me with his arms, whispering “je t’aime”…

Mon amour…

We drank our red, red, wine, having spent an unforgettable time together.

Leaving reluctantly, we felt no other hotel could be more romantic, nor as seductive as the velvety, deep red, and passionate Proustian room at the Hotel Raphael.


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