Is a book of dreams in our house. If we open any of its 30 picture-and-text spreads, off we go into a world far removed from mini-vans and Blackberries and politicians spouting crazy talk. Instead, we're lolling on an exquisite bed, sipping a cocktail at the bar, primping in an unspeakably stylish bathroom. It's enough to make us feel immoral, just for looking -- how can you luxuriate in excess while they're starving and homeless in [fill in the blank]?
Do I feel guilty about enjoying myself -- even in dreams -- while others suffer? Don't ask. But I wouldn't file "Parisian Hideaways" under "hotel porn" so quickly. A book of dreams can also be a book of ideas.
It is the core belief of this site that there is absolutely no reason why we can't live more elegant lives, right here in the US of A. But as Wittgenstein pointed out, the limits of language are the limits of life. If you can't say it, you can't think it. Ditto for images. You can't sketch what you didn't see.
Jérôme and Alice Tourbier recently created a second spa, buying and completely renovating a famous old hotel in Ville d'Avray, less than an hour from Paris 
For years, Paris museums have mostly offered charmless dining rooms and cafeterias serving uninspired food, at odds with their institutions' cutting-edge
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