Prom in Paris

As per usual during fashion month, things have gone a bit hush hush here because I’m moonlighting elsewhere with words, words and more words.  I’m worded out.  I can’t use nouns like “convey” and “evoke” for a good while after this month.  Therefore… time for a spot of fun.  American fun to be specific.  At the beginning of Paris fashion week, to celebrate the opening of their brand new flagship Paris store, Coach in bolshy American style took us to prom.  For some it was reliving a cringeworthy rite of passage.  For Brits like myself, it was a giddy experience of running through this fictional prom setup and marvelling over things like corsages, a jock’s trophy cabinet and giant bowls of punch. Stuart Vevers did inject some of his own Brit-isms though – like sherbet filled flying saucers and of course the abundance of mis-matched floral prints from the SS15 collection, which I gussied up with a navy tutu skirt. We also got to play at being prom queen and simultaneously at Coach’s flower-festooned throne. Oh, and Debbie Harry and Mark Ronson were the prom entertainment. In short, not any sort of a prom that you or I would have attended, even if we did have this tradition in the UK.

Being prom king and queen for one night in Coach jacket, dress and bag, with my own navy tulle skirt underneath and Dior boots

Next day with a cracking headache and a calming respite needed, I popped by the new flagship Coach store on 372-74 rue Saint Honoré. Down in the basement, lies something altogether more quiet than the prom antics of the night before. A Craftsmanship Bar, where bags can be cleaned and maintained (they will rub the zippers on your Coach bag with beeswax should they get a bit rusty) and new ones can be monogrammed. A few letters imprinted on leather might seem like a simple task but Christophe, Coach’s resident craftsman takes time to set the lettering, align the bag in the press and finally emboss the initials. There’s an informality to being able to watch the process, suited to Coach’s accessible sort of luxury. Hence the name ‘bar’. Now add a bowlful of those flying saucers and that cheeky punch…