LETTRE DES ALPES

Bonneville, 22 December 2024
My dear reader,
I’m writing to you today from my native Haute-Savoie, more precisely from Bonneville, a small town situated in the Arve Valley at the foot of the Alpine mountains. Although I’ve tried to take a somewhat deliberate break from my creative journey—mainly to regain inspiration—I must admit it’s hard to stick to it :)! I always have so many ideas swirling in my mind that I feel compelled to write and share them with you.
Sitting at the small desk in my childhood bedroom, the same one where I used to do my homework as a student, and lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp (which probably belonged to my grand-aunt Raymonde), I watch as night falls. It’s snowing, and it will likely continue snowing through the night. Instead of reaching for a beautiful pen, I decided to reopen my laptop and write this letter. My hope is that it will not only transport you to the French Alps but also take you on a journey through time.
Yesterday, I spent the afternoon in my father’s small, rustic mazot—a traditional Alpine hut that feels like something out of a storybook. Perched quietly in its timeless setting, this quaint little haven serves as a storage room, a garden shed, or simply an attic. It’s truly a treasure trove of memories, filled with objects of all kinds, remnants of the past weathered by time, and what some might dismiss as “old junk.” To me, though, they are treasures—items accumulated over the years and later replaced by newer things, promises of progress.
Inside this mazot, you’ll find an eclectic collection: oil lamps, a set of copper pots (including a jam-making basin), an old wooden barometer/ thermometer/ hygrometer, a beautifully carved wooden clock—both a metronome of time and a guardian of hours—a golden Dutch-style candelabra, porcelain dishes, and, most notably, a magnificent antique workshop buffet. This buffet belonged to my grandparents, who were merchants and wine and spirits dealers. These objects likely hold little monetary value today, but for me, their worth is immeasurable. They once belonged to my ancestors, woven into their daily lives, bearing witness to an era so different from our own.
Among the most remarkable finds in that charming mazot were two books: L’École du jardin fruitier and L’École du jardin potager, printed by Lottin l’aîné, Printer to the King, in 1784! Imagine—five years before the French Revolution of 1789! There was also a beautifully preserved edition of The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe (one of my favorite childhood books) published by Delarue. Though undated, my research suggests it could be from 1888.
And then, there was this book—a likely centenarian, judging by the yellowed pages and the heavily worn cover: La Rebelle by French author Marcelle Tinayre (you can read here in French). Tinayre was one of the most widely read authors of the Belle Époque. Published in 1905, this novel seems to delve into feminist themes through its protagonist, Josanne. She works for a Parisian magazine to support her ailing husband while seeking a spark of happiness in her otherwise bleak life by embarking on an affair with a young bourgeois man. I can’t help but think that in 1905, La Rebelle must have been a rather scandalous book. Perhaps young women (or not-so-young ones) passed it around discreetly and read it in secret—who knows :)?
I also discovered an entire collection of vintage fashion magazines in remarkably good condition: Modes & Travaux and Le Jardin des Modes, dating from the 1930s to the early 1950s. It’s absolutely fascinating! These magazines feature the names of legendary designers still celebrated today, such as Chanel, Schiaparelli, Lanvin, Rochas, and Patou. They also highlight others I wasn’t familiar with, like Maggy Rouff, Revillon, Augusta Bernard, Vera Borea, Lucien Lelong, Worth, Molyneux, and Robert Piguet.




The pages reveal the latest fashion trends, the designers’ new collections, and what Parisian women of the time were wearing—the fabrics, colors, and silhouettes in vogue. The text is beautifully written, often accompanied by a delightful array of sketches, illustrations, and designs. Some issues even include patterns, allowing readers to craft their own crochet pieces, sporty sweaters, tartan blouses, or golf jackets. I imagine that, back then, these magazines were treasured possessions carefully preserved by their owners. They likely served as references to show their seamstresses which pieces they wanted to recreate and add to their wardrobes.

Fashion of the time was highly structured, with specific outfits designated for every moment of the day and occasion. There was the morning dress, the afternoon dress, and the evening gown. Outerwear was equally categorized, with a morning coat, an “auto coat,” a sporty suit, a city or countryside dress, and even an afternoon ensemble. Dinner dresses were strikingly and surprisingly modern, resembling pieces that could have been lifted straight from Chanel’s latest Haute Couture collection.





This era also saw the rise of new materials, such as “rayon,” previously referred to as artificial silk. The magazines discuss garments like the jaquette—a fitted jacket with varying lengths of peplum, worn over a dress or as part of a suit—as well as collets and boleros. They also recommended fashionable colors for daytime wear (like French blue, Nile green, or opal blue), for evening attire, and for each season. The importance of details in fashion was emphasized, such as the placement of buttons on a garment or the styling of accessories. One could even learn the different ways to wear a felt beret, which was incredibly popular at the time.

By the 1930s, and more specifically during the winter of 1931-1932, the masculine-feminine style was already making waves—proof that fashion is truly cyclical! At the time, the fashionable silhouette leaned toward a masculine aesthetic: broad, squared shoulders emphasized by the cut of the garment, a cinched waist, flat hips, and straight lines extending to the hem of the skirt. These masculine shapes were softened with distinctly feminine details, such as bows, draped collars, cinched belts, embellished sleeves, twists, or gathers. These delicate touches added charm and broke the rigidity of the overall line. This silhouette also drew inspiration from past eras and vanished styles. You can see references to Louis XIII ribbons, Empire waists, Winterhalter-inspired berthas, the puffed fabrics of the 1890s, the sleeves of 1900, velvet bows, and the lace trims of 1902.
While browsing through these vintage fashion magazines, it’s equally fascinating to linger on the advertisements of the time. I’m particularly captivated by those for iconic perfumes, many of which have sadly disappeared today (and how I wish I could experience their scents!). These include Soir de Paris by Bourjois, created in 1928 by the renowned perfumer Ernest Beaux, who also created Chanel No. 5; Rumeur by Jeanne Lanvin (1934); Les Eaux de Cologne aux Fleurs by L.T. Piver; and Mais Oui by Bourjois (1938). In fact, I can’t help but think that if Bourjois were to recreate Soir de Paris—complete with its elegant midnight-blue glass bottle from the 1950s—it would likely be a great success today.


At the time, it was common to use all kinds of powders, such as Orkilia by Lentheric Paris, as well as scented hair lotions from Houbigant to make styling easier. Lipsticks with long-lasting formulas, like those from Houbigant, Ritz, or Megève, were also popular. Even then, women faced the same pressures to be thin and youthful as they do today. Helena Rubinstein extolled the revolutionary benefits of her creams, claiming they could make you look younger, while Jean de Parys promoted his Siamoise cream, which promised to erase wrinkles and tighten skin. The Amiral soap, made with ox bile extract, even claimed it could slim down the areas you washed with it—imagine that!
There was also an advertisement for Dr. Monteil’s “beauty rubbers,” part of his so-called “caoutchoutherapy.” Wearing them for just half an hour a day was supposed to rejuvenate and beautify you. Meanwhile, Dr. Jawas promised to help you shed excess weight simply by soaking in a hot bath for half an hour with one or two of his “Mexican salt” tablets. Various Parisian institutes also promoted innovative methods to preserve or achieve beauty and youth for a lifetime. It’s remarkable, really—nearly a century later, it seems that not much has truly changed ;).
P.S.: Should this letter delight you, do consider sharing it with those dear to you. To respond, pen me a note through this contact form or send your correspondence to bonjour@leoncechenal.com.
Bien à toi, Léonce.