Marrakech's Corinne Bensimon: a tale of a Moroccan dinner party

She lived in Marrakech down a path at the beautiful Beldi Country Club.  Her door was lit by a Moroccan lantern.

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Her name was Corinne Bensimon. She was French.  An interior designer, a stylist, a boutique owner....

She was a woman who loved to laugh.

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Her tunic with its grey on grey embroidery was chic, very chic. (I shop in the Men's Department, she whispered to me.)

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In the heat of the Marrakech Summer, she had set the table for 9 in the garden.  So lovely.

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The wine was poured.  A photographer, a publisher, an architect, a doctor, and more raised their glasses.

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  The flowers so scarlet in a muted cloisonne vase.

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An old Moroccan door as a backdrop. A spray of buds. 

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There was dining and wining and funny stories.

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And then it was over. It was far past midnight when we left.

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As we made our way back down the path, all we could hear was the rustling of the tall grass. 

Can we please live at the Beldi Country Club, too?  I asked my husband. But he just laughed.