sPOTLigHT

cagE OF mEmORiEs

Sharmila Bertin & Mickael Gautier

I’ve no idea if it’s a distinctive characteristic of my astrological sign but I adore freedom and harmony. I also love dreaming and if my desires don’t come true some day, well, something deep inside of me tells me that if I work hard, they will indeed become real sometime. Here, this column is a bit like my blank page. I narrate my childhood memories because it’s through them that I draw the energy to build my future, because it’s these memories that forged the person I am today. It may seem silly, but it’s like that, and I reckon I’m not the only one in the world to think like this. Here, in the peacefulness of my bedroom, where I love to seek refuge from time to time whenever I find the world too noisy, too turbulent, I open the door to memories. They fly free like birds frenetically released from their cage, they twist and twirl, wings flapping

disorderly above my head, or more so inside my head, until I grasp hold of one by chance. I’ve always got to dive back into my own past, it’s more powerful than me. The meek fragment of memory I hold metaphorically-speaking in the palm of my hand makes me smile. In fact, it’s the humour that life occasionally effuses that makes me smile. When we’re 20, we crave for something we no longer want at 40, or the opposite, when we’re 20, we refuse a certain lifestyle that we long for eagerly when we’re 40. It’s funny, isn’t it? In any case, me, I laugh it off with a sort of melancholic fondness. After my translation and interpretation studies, and with my diploma in hand, I didn’t want to become a translator or interpreter because I just couldn’t see myself chained to my computer, nose down in my books and dictionaries, and all alone. Today, two decades on, I actually work like that now, with my Mac

aT HERmès, i lEaRnEd a lOT and iT all sTill sERvEs mE wEll TOday.

as my only friend, and I spend my days carrying out research to write my articles and I love my professional life the way it is. You know, once in my work life, I looked for a job where I could be in contact with others, where I could develop business relationships with customers… and I really don’t recall how I ended up at Hermès, but I did, in the store that boasts an address that’s above legendary. If truth be told, before I was hired, I’d only ever been to 24 Faubourg Saint Honoré once in my life, to accompany a friend, and when I entered this place I felt really intimidated. Pushing open the door, well, no not really because someone opens it for you, entering the “Faubourg”, is something unforgettable because you’re whisked off into a realm of enchantment. Every morning, after I’d got dressed in my skirt suit and put on my heels, I headed for the store with my colleagues to prepare for the arrival of customers. At Hermès, I learned a lot and it all still serves me well today. I discovered the different types of leather, I fell madly in love with Barénia calfskin which, to this day, continues to be my lifetime favourite, and the array of colours whose names were each more poetic than the last. The can’t-dowithout H Red, the classic Gold and the surprising Etoupe. Leather, with its raw, comforting smell, its smooth, velvety texture, finely grained or adorned with scales depending on the animal origin, has become a passion. When my daughter was born, I gifted myself with a natural Barénia dairy cover and God knows how many times I’ve secretly whiffed its one-of-a-kind fragrance. I knew a bit about Hermès watchmaking because one of my friends wore an adorable Kelly and the Cape Cod embodied the ultimate fantasy for me who is actually not that struck by shaped watches. I loved everything about it, its slender silhouette, its fine, curved lugs, the dash of humour of this famous square in a rectangle and, with its double-wraparound strap, I just thought it was perfect. And, you know what... life meant that, quite a few years later, the Cape Cod of my dreams was finally on my wrist. A large model (GM, grand modèle, as mentioned in Hermès’ glossary) made of steel, equipped with an automatic movement (because quartz isn’t my thing), with an ivory-hued dial hosting unusually-designed Arabic numerals. And, a double wraparound strap made

especially for me in Barénia, of course, natural, of course too. The first time it embraced my skin, I could just feel pure delight tingling through me. I felt as if I was climbing back up the staircase of time, I was once again this young woman walking shyly across the threshold of the Faubourg, back in my world of work. My Cape Cod is recent and yet it is infused with memories that it ignores everything about, moments it hasn’t lived through with me but that are imprinted within. Sometimes, all you need is an object to feel invincible, and I wear this watch like a talisman. Last Christmas, I was with my mother after two years of separation as a result of the pandemic and, along with my family, I went back to this house my grandfather owns on the shores of the Mediterranean, a house where my memory of every childhood summer spent with my brothers is concealed within. For me, a highly-sensitive person, this journey to be with the ones I love, accompanied by those I love, was intensely emotional. We strolled

along the beach, feet in the sand, on the pebbles. We watched the sun rise and set, setting the sky alight. We weaved our way through the pine forest with its thousand scents. We observed clouds floating by over the sea. We laughed, ripped open our gifts under the Christmas tree decorated by my daughter and son, we discussed how the recurrent lockdowns had affected our daily lives, we ate delicious dishes cooked by my mother, browsed through old photo albums, while I realized just how lucky I was to experience these precious moments that are now part of my famous birdcage. If my Cape

Cod was devoid of memories before meeting me, I’ve created new ones for it, only for it alone.

sOmETimEs, all yOu nEEd is an ObjEcT TO FEEl invinciblE, and i wEaR THis capE cOd likE a Talisman.