The most romantic places in the French Riviera - Citimarks
citinotes

Altar of seduction

Grace Kelly at the Carlton Beach Club
Sunset at the Carlton Beach Club.

Sunset at the Carlton Beach Club, in Cannes. © Carlton Beach Club.

Citinotes

“Saint-Tropez was a paradise. [...] Heat, languor, great thirst, long bicycle rides. [...] Girls were sitting shirtless in convertible cars. There was intensity in the pleasure, as if we all knew this would be the last of beautiful summers.”
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, The Swallow Press / Harcourt, Brace, 1967.
chapter 1

Midnight Swim

They dined at the new Beach Casino at Monte Carlo . . . much later they swam in Beaulieu in a roofless cavern of white moonlight formed by a circlet of pale boulders about a cup of phosphorescent water, facing Monaco and the blur of Mentone. She liked his bringing her there to the eastward vision and the novel tricks of wind and water; it was all as new as they were to each other. 

Symbolically she lay across his saddle-bow as surely as if he had wolfed her away from Damascus and they had come out upon the Mongolian plain. Moment by moment all that Dick had taught her fell away and she was ever nearer to what she had been in the beginning, prototype of that obscure yielding up of swords that was going on in the world about her. Tangled with love in the moonlight she welcomed the anarchy of her lover.

They awoke together finding the moon gone down and the air cool. She struggled up demanding the time and Tommy called it roughly at three.

– “I’ve got to go home then.”

– “I thought we’d sleep in Monte Carlo.” 

– “No. There’s a governess and the children. I’ve got to roll in before daylight.”

– “As you like.”

They dipped for a second, and when he saw her shivering he rubbed her briskly with a towel. As they got into the car with their heads still damp, their skins fresh and glowing, they were loath to start back. It was very bright where they were and as Tommy kissed her she felt him losing himself in the whiteness of her cheeks and her white teeth and her cool brow and the hand that touched his face. Still attuned to Dick, she waited for interpretation or qualification; but none was forthcoming. Reassured sleepily and happily that none would be, she sank low in the seat and drowsed until the sound of the motor changed and she felt them climbing toward Villa Diana. At the gate she kissed him an almost automatic good-by. The sound of her feet on the walk was changed, the night noises of the garden were suddenly in the past but she was glad, nonetheless, to be back. The day had progressed at a staccato rate, and in spite of its satisfactions she was not habituated to such strain.

F. Scott Fitzgerald,

Tender is the night, Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1934.

The Hotel Belles Rives seen from its jetty

The Hotel Belles Rives seen from its jetty.

Scott Fitzgerald's photograph at the lobby of the Hotel Belles Rives.

Scott Fitzgerald lived in the villa that later became the Hotel Belles Rives, in Juan-les-Pins.

The terrace of the Hotel Belles Rives

The lovely terrace of the Hotel Belles Rives.

The jetty of the Hotel Belles Rives

Enjoying the sun at the Hotel Belles Rives.

chapter 2

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend

It’s tea time! Upon entering the resplendent Great Hall of the Hôtel de Paris, bathed in golden hues and adorned with dark wood and endless marble, a lively murmur pervades the air—a symphony of languages whispered, chirped, and screeched by women hailing from every corner of the globe. […] Pearls-draped ladies traverse the salons like triumphant figureheads returning from a glorious journey, while older women, clad in furs, persist regardless of the weather.

More than a hundred ladies assemble, each meticulously prepared by their chambermaids, adorned like walls with plaster and repainted, polished like furniture, ready for the day’s parade. They bear the weight of pearls, showcasing sumptuous embroidery, diamond chains, and translucent enamels. They speak without listening, respond without understanding; their calls echo across the room like semaphores in a storm. Their eyes gleam beneath hats adorned with both real and artificial flowers, blending together in a scene reminiscent of the Garden of Eden.

They are a universe unto themselves, hailing from Europe, the trusts of New York, the industries of Massachusetts, and the Bank of London. United through marriages with magnates of fortune, they represent the oldest families of the Old World: the crowns of Germany, the duchies of Bavaria, the principalities of Italy, and the remaining titles of the French nobility. Monte-Carlo has become their playground […]

These worldly ladies—both courtesans and actresses in one—derive their livelihood from men. Luxury is their emblem, their weapon, their snare. They outshine aristocrats in elegance, bedecked with more jewels, pearls, and emeralds than the wealthiest bourgeois.

When they select a man, it is a grace bestowed upon him, a passport to fame. The privilege of being seen in their company can elevate a man’s status and wealth by billions of gold Francs; the money spent on these ladies serves as an investment in their own future and glory.

They are the blossoms of boudoirs, vestal virgins of private mansions; their battlefield is not the living room but the bedroom. Surrounded by admirers, courtiers, and a circle of artists, they have both lovers of the heart and lovers of the body. They reign over the twilight, the long nights, and the break of dawn; they are society’s cherished secret nectar. […] They pursue wealth […], wander through the gardens of Monte-Carlo, and dwell in new villas where the sky takes on the color of porcelain. Yet, in the afternoon, like everyone else, they bring their chambermaid along […] to have tea at the Hôtel de Paris.

Raoul Mille,

La Belle Otero, Albin Michel, 1994.

Detail of the Salle Empire, the majestic dining room of the Hotel de Paris Monte-Carlo. © Hotel de Paris Monte-Carlo.

Caroline “La Belle” Otero, the most idolized dancer and courtesan of her time. It is said that the twin domes of Carlton Hotel in Cannes were based on a molding of her breast. © Reutlinger Paris.

View of the Hotel de Paris Monte-Carlo from the Casino square. © Hotel de Paris Monte-Carlo.

chapter 3

Hips in white satin

The beach is not yet invaded. This means that it is not four o’clock yet. Ten bathers, however, are already savoring the delicious sensation of a warm, clear and luminous sea […]. I count about thirty bodies, lying on the sand motionless and almost naked: a good suntan needs patience. […] At ten in the morning they are already settled on the sand. They leave at noon and come back after lunch to digest on the sand; they stay there through the evening, permitting themselves to bathe for only a few minutes. […]

At the hotel-bar, beautiful ladies in pajamas stay there all afternoon […] these ladies are keen on undressing themselves easily -day or night; they are always eager to hang around gigolos at the beach bar and have the time of their lives. […] These lovely ladies demonstrate their sweetness by wiggling their hips in their pajamas.

The pajamas! This Mexican outfit has set, since 1929, such a strong trend that nothing can stop it. Rarely, in fact, has fashion tolerated such a prolonged reign. But, in truth, pajamas are more than a mere sartorial fantasy; they are one of the conquests of modern women […]. In the future, they might be used for doing sports, traveling, even attending galas, until they become fully accustomed to everyday life. The trend was launched in Saint-Tropez and Juan-les-Pins, two small Mediterranean resorts which set the rules, in terms of summer elegance, not only at the Côte d’Azur, but also on other high-society coasts in France.

At first, no one dared to wear them in places other than the beach, where they reigned for two whole years. Then, they started appearing on the streets, at cafés, at dance-halls, at restaurants, pretty much everywhere; up until 1933, pajama outfits -in jersey, shantung, tussore, organdy, in all fabrics and colors – continued to triumph as the undisputed master…

All these originalities are allowed at the “beautiful Azur” for it seems that no color is too conspicuous under the magical sky of Provence.

Fernand Veron and Fernand Ben,

L’enchantement de Saint-Tropez, Eugène Figuière, 1937.

ladies hanging by the beach in their pajamas

Ladies hanging at the jetty in their beach pajamas. Source: La mode pyjama.

Lady in beach pajama by Jean Patou.

Lady posing in her pajamas outfit designed by famous French couturier Jean Patou, circa 1929. © Luigi Diaz, source: La mode pyjama.

young girlfriends posing under the shade, circa 1930.

Suntanned young ladies joyfully posing at a French Coast beach bar, circa 1930. Source: Messy Nessy.

Rene Perle, a young beauty of the 1930s.

Renée Perle, a young beauty of the 1930s and muse of the French photographer Jacques-Henri Lartigue, posing in her beach pajamas. Source: Messy Nessy.

The French Riviera for seducers

Explore the most romantic spots to seduce your object of desire.

French Riviera