Air Du Vendôme by Matt Morley
Featured Hotel in Paris
Murano Resort Paris
See all hotels in Paris >
Paris may not be known for its traffic, but believe the constant lamentations of the local media and we should all be heading off to the Bois de Boulogne for a daily promenade sans smog.
This may not seem such a bad idea on paper, but anyone who has driven through this verdant anomaly on the eastern edge of the city will know it is not somewhere for the safety-conscious flaneûr on a directionless wander. Particularly after dark. Unless of course, he or she is a closet De Sade in need of satisfaction.
For dedicated disciples of luxury meanwhile, the more obvious solution is a stroll around the outer perimeter of the Place Vendôme, for air doesn't come much cleaner than this. Leave De Sade by your bedside, pack a credit card or two and head here instead for your daily fix d’air pur. The financial consequences might be marginally more damaging, but at least you will live to tell the tale.
Quite how this open-ended octagon manages to retain such an aura of tranquility when the rest of the city sits in a daily lunchtime gridlock remains something of a mystery. There is certainly no shortage of ministerial cars, police escorts and impatient limo-drivers in the area.
Yet something mysterious happens when they all enter Place Vendôme, like a veil of history passing over their faces, numbing them into silent submission with the weight of over three golden centuries of French history. Either that of course, or the unmarked police cars lurking in the entry roads are doing rather a good job of keeping the riffraff away.
Commissioned in 1685 by King Louis XIV, the ‘sun King’, Place Vendôme was intended to be an ornament for the city. Jules-Hardouin Mansart was the man responsible for designing the royal residence at Versailles, a commission that later saw him bringing King Louis’ vision of similar grandeur to life in the capital itself.
Two imposing constructions, utterly different in some respects, yet sharing the same underlying aesthetic principles that dominated their era. A sense of obvious greatness is offset by a deceptive simplicity in shape and form. Yet there is no denying the overbearing sense of power and elegance these buildings convey, a sign of Louis’ self-assured rule.
It was Napoleon who later tore down the royal statue at the centre of the square and instead erected one of himself in a rare moment of bashful humility. The 144-foot high construction was made from over 1000 enemy guns taken from the 1805 Battle of Austerlitz that were molten and reformed to offer a permanent warning to potential future aggressors.
Napoleon also re-shaped the square into its present incarnation, with the surrounding rues de la Paix, Rivoli and Castiglione. Public buildings such as embassies, banks, the French Academy and the Royal Mint have all been here from the very beginning. Over the years though, private enterprise began to creep in with the arrival of the more prestigious luxury boutiques (no other companies could justify the extortionate rental prices it seems).
The arcades of the exquisitely fronted mansions that surround the square create an intimate salon feel at the heart of Paris. It is a place where one can escape the normal inconveniences of city life such as tourist groups, road works and dog caca, where one can slip behind a pair of dark glasses and go unnoticed into some of the most blue-blooded private residences remaining.
Moving between the likes of Chaumet, Cartier, Guerlain and Buccellati today, one sees a different kind of shopper to that of Avenue Montaigne. This is a world of hushed negotiations over six-figure price tags, of third-generation customers, of full-length Fendi furs and Boucheron rocks bigger than golf balls. This is calf-skin loafer territory, on a wet day in April.
Place Vendòme then, is not somewhere for a spot of idle widow-shopping, if you want to cruise the collections, head to le Bon Marché. Tea breaks are taken exclusively at Le Ritz and it is almost compulsory to arrive with a driver and leave with several laden shop assistants (to carry your bags of course, not accompany you home).
If all of this sounds rather serious and self-important, that’s because it is. A flattering morning sun may bathe the western edge of the square in a halo of straw-coloured light, but lingering to enjoy the spectacle is simply not allowed. In a strange twist of French policy-making, you can charge your electric car here, but not find a single public bench to sit down upon.
Representing all that is feminine and grand luxe about Paris today, to the more astute observer Place Vendôme also reveals just how much sway the luxury houses have in this part of the world. If you reach into your pocket here, it is to search for your wallet, not your digi-camera; Bernard Arnauld, head of LVMH said so. Monsieur Arnauld’s thoughts on the Parisian smog issue meanwhile, remain far more opaque.