THIS IS IT

– The new child of May –

So… It all started with fashion friend Fiona Hering who thought my Chanel matelassé had seen better days. Well, there wasn't much wrong with the bag itself, but it had reached its maximum number of photo opportunities.

And she had a point there. I have a lot of bags, but somehow this one was the most photogenic and besides, it had such a nice long chain (did you know that Coco Chanel came up with the idea of such a chain because she seriously needed her hands free for a glass and a cigarette at parties?) which allowed it to hang casually on my hip.

But okay, a new bag had to come. So I started my field research. What should it be. The new Gucci or the Louis from Vuitton or the reinvention from Saint Laurent? I wrote about it, chewed on it, and was even approached about it on the schoolyard by fellow moms who read Amayzine. “You’re definitely going for that Chanel.” Or: “You already have so much Chanel, I would choose that Vuitton.” Until the most honest argument from my daughter: “Mom, you already have so many bags. That just costs money and then you have to work even more.” Of course, I didn’t listen to that at all. Later she will be grateful to me.

Then Harriet Calo peeked around the corner. That we should once again spend a day together in Paris. The bizarre fate wants that we did this exactly last Friday, but thank goodness we were gone again in time. We took the Thalys and once in Paris asked the first taxi if he could take us to Rue Cambon. Because that’s where the mother of all Chanel boutiques is. And that’s what I had set my sights on.

The advantage is that you have an incredibly extensive collection there. Disadvantage, well, disadvantage is a big word, is that you really aren’t very special if you come there to buy a bag. Where they dance with you in Amsterdam, take photos of you with you and the bag, and of course serve a glass of champagne to celebrate this purchase, it was business as usual here.

Here, a couple of stern guards were on my back when I was texting photos to my love of the choices. And I wasn’t allowed to touch them either. The bags, not the guards I think, but I had just a little less need for that. That was only allowed with the saleswoman present. And they were all very nice. I fondled a fall green, a fuchsia pink, a small blue, but actually, upon entering, I had already pledged my heart to this mustard yellow one.

I’m already looking forward to our winter, but it can also perfectly go on summer vacation. And it fits on the schoolyard, but is definitely fashion week worthy.

I hope you like her too, because I fear you will see her quite regularly. And if Fiona then says again that it’s enough, there’s nothing else to do but travel back to Rue Cambon.