Paris! Where Bombyx House Goes to Remember It Has Taste

Look, if you're going to drag yourself across an ocean for "inspiration," it might as well be Paris. At least there, mediocrity is still considered a cardinal sin.

We spent a day pretending to be cultured at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs, where some Art Nouveau trinkets weren't entirely hideous. Then, because apparently we hadn't tortured ourselves enough, we visited one of those insufferably hip concept stores. You know the type - where they sell a pencil for the price of a small car.

Lunch was spent nodding politely at some "artist" who thought throwing paint at a canvas made her the next Picasso. The only thing abstract was the connection between her ego and talent.

Finally, we rummaged through Le Marais like well-dressed raccoons, finding some brass bits that weren't completely offensive. The shopkeeper regaled us with stories, probably all lies, but charming lies at least.

Now we'll go back to our studio and try to make something that doesn't make people wince. If you buy it, you're not just wearing jewelry - you're wearing our jet lag, our sore feet, and a small piece of Paris that we've hopefully made slightly less irritating.

Welcome to Bombyx House. We suffered in Paris so you don't have to.