IT WAS ALL IN A NAME

I found her by accident and in the strangest place, my grandmother's handbag. There she was embroidered inside the seam with the initials CC; it was amusing and in some ways embarrassing to think about how I never knew what that stood for, but always the curious kitten I would certainly find out. Coco Chanel, I took a moment to say her name out loud just to feel the soft tremble on my lips. Then suddenly I realised that I knew her, when I was a girl, she was the woman I watched walking on the other side of the street everyday around 3pm when I got out from school, who always wore a pair of spectacular shoes, a knee hugging skirt and a waist clenching blouse that matched the hue of a pastel pink rose petal. In Chanel I felt a little bit braver, she was my Clark Kent: a super hero with a force so divinely feminine that it could make the most grunge loving girl put on heels. On the runway, her haute couture designs were eye swelling delights that could easily inspire the silhouette of any woman. Coco Chanel, was a most fortunate opportunity for fashion and a transcendent reality for women everywhere. A hope unlike any other, she was authentic like the feelings one felt from a first kiss. Chanel was a charming riddle for the fashion world that could not be solved and decidedly so. How perfect was she? A rare recipe whose ingredients were immeasurable. What she possessed could not be taught or replaced; she was that lady in a cardigan that we all requested. Simply said, it was her style and elegance that made me pause.