Joie

If I could jump into the pages of Ajiri Aki’s Joie, I’d be writing this post from there. Every occasion of sitting down to read its pages was pure, well, joie. It’s a book I prolonged finishing because it was such a pleasure to absorb its words and images.

Joie adds to my existing and ever-expanding collection of books about Paris and France. Such is my love of the topic that this Francophile purchased Joie the day I heard about it. What makes Joie different from other books in my collection is how Aki ties her Nigerian roots and her childhood and early adulthood living in the U.S. to her appreciation of the French way of life. Attending yard sales with her mother and grandmother in Texas informed her love of exploring French flea markets. Observing her mother’s wedding china as it was stored away and deemed only to be used for “special occasions”—that never seem to come—convinced Aki that everyday is worthy of “using the good china.”  

I long ago embraced French attitudes towards life. Work to live. Quality over quantity. Slowing down. Appreciating simple moments of joy. Surrounding oneself with beauty and meaning. Aki’s words are a reminder of why I hold these ideals so dear. What I wasn’t expecting from reading Joie was a new desire to go antiquing, something I rarely have the patience for. But here I am, saying au revoir as I go in search of vintage champagne coupes.