Dining in awe

Dining in aweShop the dream

“We spent the evening dining in awe, staying there for an immeasurable time…”

Sometimes dinner is not just dinner darling — it can be an extraordinary event.

I went to this old Palazzo yesterday evening. I had been feeling quite lost lately in town and I wanted to be in a place that could restore my faith in the world through that which is awe inspiring. I found myself in this old palazzo, with halls filled with intricate moulding and echoes; candelabras with every turn I made and stairs that were made to climb in gowns.

I was wearing my Jason Wu strapless gown; my hair up in a messy chignon, I walked, barefoot, towards the room I was to dine in, enjoying the chill of the marble tiles. It’s thrilling to feel the cold in my bones after the time I spent in town, drying the sweat off my neck with silk scarves. I walked through several halls, finding myself in mirrors, looking up at the paintings and saluting the sculptures I came across, until I arrived in the room I was to dine in.

It was quite a bare room, but grand, enough to make me step back to take it all in. There was not an inch on the walls that was not covered by elaborately drawn moulding or by mirrors — panel after panel of moulding and mirrors that summoned a number of Madeliene Roses.

There was no furniture, except for a long table that made me think it led to infinity — black and with veins of wood protruding slightly. The chairs with their velvet backs and winter white legs where all drawn in to the table, except one, where plates with floral patterns and silverware where set for me to dine.

I have told you stories of when I was dining in awe under chandeliers before but darling, this room was not merely lit up by chandeliers, I felt like I was dining under a shower of crystals. There were rows of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, grand enough to inspire awe alone but creating a dance of delight to an eye that was in need of wonder. I lifted my gown and sat myself in the chair, waiting to be served.

The minute I sat, the skeletal maestro on the wall clicked his baton to the moulding and the shadows started playing a melody that was filled with the right amount of eerie during dinner time. I could distinguish the piano notes amid the cellos and the violins; I do love my piano during dinner. As the chandeliers dimmed slightly in unison, ghostly women donning heavy necklaces and gowns came in the room bearing dish after dish of vegetables in jus, cakes, cupcakes and quick breads.

Placing everything on the table with their thin hands, they left me to dine in peace. I stayed here for a very long time, eating, listening to the maestro and the melodies of his orchestra and looking up at the myriad of crystals instilled with the awe I had lost for a while.

Story credits: Dior fall ’13 for the image.

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