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I have a very fond memory of @karllagerfeld which I’d like to share.
As a child, I was invited to a 7th birthday party in one of Paris’s chicest neighbourhoods. The theme was fancy dress. Now, Paris is a place where people start dressing competitively from their infancy.
As a child, I was invited to a 7th birthday party in one of Paris’s chicest neighbourhoods. The theme was fancy dress. Now, Paris is a place where people start dressing competitively from their infancy.
Choosing an outfit was no light-hearted matter; my mother fretted over it for days. My godmother, who was then working for Karl, whom she had known for many years, offered to help. She soon produced a beautiful yellow silk princess dress, sourced from offcuts from Chloe.
It was yellow, with jewels sewn into the edges of the collar and very beautiful. The problem was that, aged 7, I was a complete tomboy. I flatly refused to wear it. You see, I’d already set my heart on my outfit. I was going to go to this party dressed as a box.
I’m not entirely sure how the idea of the box came about. But when I was presented with my princess dress at my godmother’s workplace, I started to cry.
Faced with such monstrous ingratitude, my godmother calmly suggested I step in to Karl Lagerfeld’s office, so he could explain why I should not pass up the chance, aged 7, to wear a Chloe-designed princess dress.
Most busy, high flying people in this situation would probably have told me not to be brat, but he did no such thing.
Instead, Karl got up from his desk and came to sit down on the floor beside me. He asked what I wanted to wear.
“A box,” I said mutinously.
Instead, Karl got up from his desk and came to sit down on the floor beside me. He asked what I wanted to wear.
“A box,” I said mutinously.
He sprang up and clapped his hands. “A wonderful idea!” he replied, beaming, and he really meant it. Within minutes, he’d got his assistant to bring a selection of boxes from the storeroom. We found one big enough to cover me and he helped me cut out holes for my head and arms.
I still remember what it looked like: it had a Lagerfeld fan on the front. We completed the outfit with a pair of red socks and white trainers.
I’ll always it as the day one of the world’s greatest designers, himself no stranger to tantrums, took an hour of his time to indulge the creativity of a child. It still gives me the courage, thirty years later, to have confidence in my ideas. Thanks again Karl; the box was a hit
