Coco Chanel

I have decided to change my challenge of writing a story every week to writing a story every other week but don't fret (if anyone even notices which it doesn't seem that they do), I am currently working on a book! I am not going to say just yet what it is as it is only in the research phase but it takes up a lot of my time so I need to focus on that and less on my creative endeavors. I am also changing the blog dates from Mondays to Fridays as I am watching a little baby now and that works better for my schedule.

With that said, I recently finished up Mademoiselle Chanel by C. W. Gornter. This is the first book I have read by him and it came with great praise by Michelle Moran.The book was very interesting and true to Chanel's history. It is also very sympathetic to her and her dealings during WWII. It is difficult to know exactly what she was involved with during the war and with the Nazis but this book makes her seem entirely innocent and I feel as if that is too good to be true. She is written as a little cold and slightly arrogant which may have been her persona but it is difficult to read through that. The story is very rich and interesting and I learned a lot about the infamous Chanel because of it. She was an ambitious woman and cared deeply for those she loved which is evident in the book. I would recommend this to anyone who is interested in history and the early 20th century.

Week 17 & 18 (27 April-10 May 2015)

Paris

“Paris...” the words tumbled from her lips like the ribbon of the iconic Tiffany & Co. teal box being undone to reveal the most glorious gift inside. Her heart was the keeper of this present and now it was exposed. She was there, on the streets of Paris, with the warm summer heat creeping through her body enticing her to move from the spot she inhabited. Noise seemed to be never ceasing. Car horns honked to remind traffic it had one job, to move along. The streets were the fastest thing about the city. Cars whirred by, daring pedestrians to try their luck at crossing anywhere other than a crosswalk. Everywhere else seemed to be a turtle's pace. People sauntered down the sidewalks stopping to check out the latest handbag in the window of a chic shop. They grabbed a warm baguette and tore pieces off, occasionally tossing a piece to an unsuspecting pigeon. Parisians walked as if they had nowhere to be and ate carbs like their hips just devoured any ounce of fat left on them.

Paris, she had made it! She was there! Her heart racing and stopped all at once absorbing every sight she could take in, from the traces of pre-Revolution architecture to the modern apartments with sleek windows overlooking cobble stone streets. She watched young lovers hold hands and treat each other like every person in the world had disappeared but them. Pigeons darted into the sky as a crowd of Parisians and tourists alike crossed the road. How lucky are those pigeons she thought, they get to live in this glorious city of love! The soft, floral perfume of a Parisienne mingled with cigarette smoke infiltrated her nostrils as she took in a city like none other she had ever seen.

Effortlessly stylish women sipped glistening glasses of French wine and gossiped with one another at a nearby café. A gaggle of children heading to the Louvre for their school trip abroad swarmed past her. A man dressed in a crisp suit and skinny blue tie to match his sapphire blue eyes dashed passed her towards the Metro to his spectacular job in the city. Paris was abuzz with locals and tourists alike. She made her way towards the Seine, glancing at her husband knowing full well he was just as delighted with their adventure as she was. At the river, that cut through Paris like a thick knife, people dangled their feet into the cool water. The sun was giving everyone more reason to ignore responsibilities as the heat and moisture gave the city a hazy glow. The banks of the Seine were filled to the brink on the shaded portions as stands sold cold drinks, nutella crepes and nutella covered Belgian waffles.

She sauntered through the city in its oppressive heat, eventually taking sanctuary in a delightful café near the Pont Neuf. Sipping chilled beers and munching on fresh macarons, they gazed at each other. Dewey sweat kissed their brows and exhaustion tickled their feet, and yet, the city never ceased to exude love. It crept through them in that little café pinching red to their cheeks and alleviating all feelings of weariness from their bones. The days of their tripped consisted of getting lost in random streets, bouncing from museum to café to museum to café. Everything was lazy and late. Breakfast at 10, lunch at 3 and sometimes 4, dinner at 11 with pastries, wine and beer encompassing every snack break in between. There was never a lack of delicacies to tantalize their palate and warm their bellies. Sharing food and strolling through Paris seemed to be the easiest ways to fall in love. They yearned to keep going but the cool air conditioning and their feet begging for a break kept them for a while. As the sun began to go down and the heat eased, they choose to seek out dinner.

The clear blue sky had morphed into a spectacular evening glow of purple and pink. The feminine colors mingled in the sky like the silks of a Parisienne's scarves. Soft, effortless, inviting, twirling around the Eiffel Tower like a painting, daring the sun's beams to disturb its dance. As day faded to night, more lovers advanced on the city. The radiance of Paris seemed to only grow as the sun dipped behind the iron symbol of France. Lights illuminated late night cafés enticing you to sip some champagne and savor escargot. She couldn't believe how tantalizing each street had become without the glorious sun; the absence of heat may have helped a bit.

Monet, Manet, Rembrandt, Picasso, Dali, Coco Chanel, Josephine Baker, Edith Piaf, Victor Hugo, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hemingway, the greatest names in history were made my Paris and in turn made Paris. She strolled in their steps, eating at Hemingway's haunts, traversing Marie Antoinette's final steps, watching as the shops maintained the sophistication Chanel created. She fell in love as they had fallen in love; the city challenging all to try not to do so. As she soaked in the city her mind was buzzing. The history and beauty filling her brain until she just couldn't fathom leaving Paris. She sipped champagne from the evenings dinner and smiled at her husband. Paris... she sighed and closed her eyes, imprinting their trip forever in her mind.