Last week I stopped into one of the local thrift stores. I found this jacket.
For you sharp eyed readers, yes, it is a Chanel. I have lots of friends in the world of sewing, or who just love fashion for whom this is thrift store find is like finding the holy grail.
I have never lusted after Chanel. Ever. Aside from the issue of her terrible politics, Chanel clothing mostly does not ring my chimes. Once many years ago I was in a Madison Avenue boutique. A quilted Chanel bag was deeply on sale. The saleswoman kept telling me what a steal it was, and telling me what a classic it was. I bought the bag, and by the time I took two steps out of the store, I realized that I would never ever be old enough to use the bag. I turned around and returned the bag. No, I have never had a second’s regret about that return.
It fits my body, but it is too uptight for me to enjoy wearing. Actually, wearing the jacket feels like going shopping with my mother. She would select something tasteful and elegant and very much not me. I would find it difficult to articulate why despite the garment being beautiful… and even beautiful on me…I hated having it on my body because of the message that it sent of a person who WASN’T me.