Buying + Loving

Africa: and a tale of magic, real magic

You know, perhaps, that I believe in magic.  Real magic. 

And so I can remember this story clearly, even though it’s been years.  I was in Senegal on assignment, and I was struggling with a problem.  No matter my attempts to address it – blatant ignoring, cajoling conversations, interventions by third parties, etc. – the problem wouldn’t go away.   

Now I had been to Senegal before.  Indeed, it had been my first posting overseas and so its cities and streets, its traditions and rituals held a certain memory for me.  So I wasted no time --  I took a boat out to Goree Island in the very first days. 

Now Goree Island is a place famous for its sad and then triumphant history.  It’s also famous for its fakirs or marabouts, traditional healers or witch doctors (depending on your persuasion and perspective).  So I went and I found him -- the Marabout/fakir/witchdoctor.  I told him my problem, and he nodded.   I can fix that, he said simply.  He then did some things and gave me some things.  And in the days and weeks to come, my problem went away. Just. Like. That. And it’s been gone until this very day.

If I want to keep the problem at bay, it is said that I must never tell anyone what the problem was or what  the fakir did to dispel it.  And so I won’t.  I will simply tell you that I believe that talismans, prayer beads and cowrie shells (believed to have intrinsic powers) have a  place around your neck and in your home.  Oh yes.  Yes, they do.

I bought this beautiful collection for you. Just in case you needed one or two.  I know I do.

Purchase any of these beauties for yourself or for someone going through a difficult time and needing a little magic. You can buy them right here.

Photos by the talented Natalie Opocensky. My favorite book, Maroc, by Albert Watson.

Marrakesh, Morocco: and a Fall tale of color and Moroccan rugs

In Morocco, it's all about red.  Of course orange and yellow feature prominently too, along with rosy pink and a splash of violet.  But why?  Why red? Why yellow?

Because it's not just about beauty in Morocco, it's about meaning.  The colors have purpose and meaning and are used as such.  And red.....well, red is the color of sensuality, the color of fertility, and the color of happiness.  Oh my.  Add in the yellow and orange, representing the sun and spiritual wealth and you have......the colors of Fall.  A time when we need those symbols and meanings.  Yes?  Especially as we head into winter.

And so I give you a Moroccan carpet.  Or two Moroccan carpets.  Or perhaps three.  (Did I mention four?).  Filled with the colors of Fall and all that they mean.  A reminder of beauty and so much more.

Moroccan rugs around the pool at Peacock Pavilions in Marrakesh Morocco

To celebrate the season, a serious sale on lovely things the color of Fall in my shop.  Carpets, cushions, fabrics and more. Every item benefits that Do-Good cause I love so much, Project Soar.  Click here and enter the promo code FALLCOLORS at checkout.  

Happy Fall.

Marrakesh is magic: and a tale of #tribalchic living

This fall, if you can't travel to Marrakesh, let it travel to you. Dream the dreams of nomads under a blanket of starry sequins. Rest your feet on carpets fit for the most stylish gypsies. Drape textiles in inky colors and patterns on tables, windows and beds....

Give yourself the gift of handmade beauty. Yes, the magic can be anywhere, even right at home.

Live, be and see #tribalchic. M.Montague Fall 2014

Moroccan talismans: and a tale of tribal jewels

I believe in magic.  And so I saved for them.  The talismans. I wanted more than one, I wanted several, I wanted many.  I wanted so many that I'd know that they'd protect me no matter the circumstances, no matter the situation, no matter the tight bind. 

I wanted the old ones, I wanted the real ones, I wanted the kind that had their powers.  There were silver ones and Oh, there were gold ones.  I wanted them both.  I wanted them all.


For four months, I paid for them.  Every month I paid some more.  And then I paid some more again.  Until they were mine....the Moroccan talismans.  Bought from the white haired keeper of talismans

And then she made it for me....the necklace.  The necklace of talismans. 


With them around my neck....I feel, well, invincible


My talismans are mine.  But perhaps there are talismans that should be yours?  This necklace?  Or this one?  Or perhaps this one?  Or just look here.