Diary – 21 July 2007

I miss Issie. I am waiting outside in the Orangerie in the Parc de St-Cloud, in Paris, where the Chanel show is about to begin. The incessant driving rain, the clouds, thick, and black with purpose, as another deluge begins. The huge white bright spotlights shining undiminished give a silvery magnificence to the scene. The team of Karl Lagerfeld and Chanel, undefeated by the elements, succeed in staging one of the best couture shows I have seen, and I have seen quite a few. Contrary to what one might expect, the rain heightens the senses and gives it a poetic surrealism. Showtime. The moment the first model exits to explosive music and flashbulbs, the runway has become a stream in the gravel. No one can do drama like Karl, and this is a drama. He is a master at the apogee of his game and a true artist. It is Metropolis meets Les liaisons dangereuses, neat and exquisite silhouettes encrusted with jewels and paillettes.