MERCI is not only a word it is also a store; not any kind of store. One of those very special places where you meet all sorts of designer brands with an edge: the edge is to donate part of their profits to an organisation .
MERCI is a concept-store. You come to Paris , you've heard about it like Colette and you know that you'll have to go there. If you don't get there, you're just a total nobody from as far away as Nebraska, at least, if not Laponia. You know more or less in which neighbourhood it is situated; so you take the stinking and noisy metro and you land at République. Get up the stairs back to Paris's fresh air and then , avenue Beaumarchais, quite expectant to at last come face to face with the unusual .
But then : a roofed passage with that romantic italianate painted "trompe-l'oeil" on the right wall when coming in. Incongruous when you were told MERCI was a modern "it" place.
Old beams, and a real painting right there in an open passage, true, we're in the most ancient Paris neighbourhoods.
And then, that's what it is, a FANTASTIC MIX of everything: furniture, clothes, accessories, china, cutlery, lingerie, men's outfits, woman's furs, paperbacks, pencils and paperwork, lighting and pans, pants and socks, scents .
My MERCI little cosy pinky romantic boudoir. Pure girly charm.