"May you live in interesting times," said someone long before the time of Donald Trump. (It was not Confucius, I googled that.) Our times pose interesting questions for fashion, among them, "how to get out of dressing the First Lady?".
Heads of state, first ladies, women of political power in the public eye, wherever they live, are scrutinised for their style. They are wise to accept neither freebies nor discounts. Yet many are accustomed to accepting favours: a dress cut to their precise measurements, delivered to where they need it to be. While there are some designers who are delighted to dress Melania Trump (others less so, yet who think it is the democratic thing to do), for those who won't provide clothes, she can always do what other clothes-horse wives of less than popular leaders do: get what she wants online. (Syria's Asma al-Assad, another attractive woman with a love of clothes few want to provide, allegedly does just that.) Not many designers can control who wears their clothes these days.
Among the holdouts not online are Céline, where the USP is "small and interesting" even though the brand appeal is enormous, and Chanel, which has an online store only for window shopping clothes and accessories. Regardless of who buys and wears Chanel, the brand has managed to maintain an enviable cachet, even among the hard-bitten fashion corps for which I qualify as a life member. There is little more thrilling than being invited to a Métiers d'Arts Chanel show. This is a small event, staged once each year for a total of no more than a few hundred people, who sit up close to the clothes. This is to appreciate the artistry of the ateliers Chanel has bought and saved: Michel for hats, Lesage for embroidery, and so on.
Jagger, Richie, Dylan & Depp
In December, the Métiers d'Arts show was staged at the Paris Ritz, yet to be honest few of us were concentrating on the weave of the tweed. We were looking at the models and guessing, somewhat as if they were fillies at a stud sale, who sired whom. You see, almost all of them were sons and daughters of somebodies, with surnames including Jagger, Richie, Dylan and Depp, the latter also the offspring of Vanessa Paradis, who starred in a Chanel advert as a teen just as Lily-Rose is doing today. Such nepotism should have been ghastly yet it wasn't. The show felt fresh and happy, not least because "Mr Happy" himself, Pharrell Williams (son of a handyman and a school teacher, father of four children too young as yet to model), also took part.
Which leads to fashion's other big question. Is it OK to be happy, given times that get more "interesting" by the day? Or is dressing up the sartorial equivalent of idiocy? I favour rather uniform dress for my own professional life but I'm of the opinion that a sack cloth never did anyone much good.
The Chanel collection was glorious. I hope those who can afford it buy it, wear it, love it. When times are tough fashion's best role is to be light and frivolous. Whatever your budget, dress up. Add a smile and a flower to your hair.
International fashion editor Marion Hume is based in London.
The AFR Magazine's annual Arts issue is out on Friday, February 24 inside The Australian Financial Review.
