If I wake up early enough and walk to the beach, I can see that blue. It fills the sky; it fills the water; it is quiet; it is calm. Normally I run along the beach in Ré; it starts the day for me. The sky is blue; the houses in the village are white. Bikes lean against the peeling paint. It’s serene, not pristine. The peeling paint comforts me. I buy five croissants.
This island that sits in the French Atlantic feels detached, without being isolating. It relaxes me too, simultaneously away and at home. The wind, the sun, the splashing, the cycling, the kids, the cooking: they tire my body and ease my mind. And eventually, as the evening sun tints the ocean orange, and a coolness settles into the air, bed-time calls.
My Ré collection embodies this serenity, this quietness, this island. It is blue; it is white; it is peaceful. It is comfortable and it is beautiful.