It did not help that I disembarked with a cold that had me feverish and sneezing, the first time in years I could recall being ill. Misia fed me hot soup while I sweated out the fever in our hotel suite, even as hordes of reporters besieged the lobby in hopes of catching a glimpse of me. Once I felt sufficiently recovered, I donned one of my red jersey dresses with white cuffs and rounded collar, and invited the reporters to my room, hiding my astonishment at their eagerness to interview me. All they wanted to know was what I planned to do in Hollywood. “I have not brought my scissors,” I told them, “I’m simply going to see what the studio can offer. It’s by invitation, without commitment.” By the next morning, the papers were reporting all sorts of erroneous declarations attributed to me, including the remark, Misia read aloud, that “long hair would be back in style” and I found “men who wore scent disgusting.” The papers also predicted I would find Hollywood a challenge, given my preferred method of work, during which I designed a dress, saw it to the workroom, and rarely touched it again.
What do You think about Mademoiselle Chanel (2015)?
