Stumbling into the French Art of Living exhibition
I ended up walking through the ‘French Art of Living 2026’ exhibition last week, mostly because I had a bit of time to kill near the French Embassy. Honestly, I didn’t plan on spending that much time looking at plates and silverware, but the place was packed with people looking intensely at displays. It was all about the 140th anniversary of diplomatic ties between Korea and France, which sounds fancy, but mostly it felt like a very polished window-shopping experience for things I’d probably be terrified to break.
The odd feeling of seeing airplane gear in a museum
One of the weirder parts was seeing the Baccarat crystal collection showcased alongside Bernardaud porcelain and Christofle silverware. They kept mentioning that these are the exact brands used in Korean Air’s first-class cabin service. It is strange to look at these delicate pieces—things that cost hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars—behind glass cases, and then realize I’ve probably sat near them while someone was trying to pour me orange juice at 30,000 feet. There was a sort of disconnect there. In the sky, it feels like a functional part of a very expensive meal, but here, it felt like an object of worship. I found myself wondering if anyone actually uses these things at home without being constantly anxious about scratching them.
Trying to reconcile luxury with the other Baccarat
Maybe it’s just the word association, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how the name Baccarat keeps popping up in completely different contexts. Just a few days earlier, I read an article about the casino scene in Jeju, specifically how the Lotte Tour Development casino is pushing for higher rolling competitiveness. It’s funny how the brand represents this high-society, sophisticated French lifestyle in one space, yet in the casino industry, it’s just the name of a game where people sweat over high-stakes betting. It felt like a bizarre cultural collision in my head. I’m standing in a room full of people admiring crystal wine glasses, thinking about how someone else is likely sitting at a table in Jeju, staring at a screen or a dealer, hoping for a winning hand in the same-named game.
The reality of maintaining these things
I looked at a crystal vase in the exhibit and tried to imagine what it would actually be like to own it. Not the price, which is obviously astronomical—some of these pieces run well into the thousands—but the actual maintenance. My place is not designed for hand-washing crystal with extreme caution. The thought of cleaning a Baccarat piece after a dinner party seems like more stress than it’s worth. I think I prefer things that I don’t have to treat like museum artifacts, even if they aren’t ‘the essence of French table art.’ It was beautiful, sure, but I left feeling like it’s a lifestyle that requires a very specific, calm kind of environment that I just don’t have.
Looking back at the crowd
Before leaving, I watched a few people taking photos of the displays. Most were just capturing the glitz of it all. It’s a strange thing, this obsession with status symbols. Whether it’s the crystal on the table or the game in the casino, the brand name carries a weight that seems to attract a lot of attention. I walked out into the humid afternoon air and decided I was perfectly happy with my plain, sturdy glasses. Maybe I’m just missing the point of high-end living, or maybe I just don’t want to carry the responsibility of keeping glass looking like diamonds. The exhibition was fine, but I don’t think I’ll be rushing to buy a crystal collection anytime soon.