For The Love Of Buttons

Someone recently joked that I needed to get out of my Chanel rut; that I needed to shake it up a little. Aren’t you bored, she asked. I don’t think so…

I love everything about fashion, from the creations of obscure Belgian designers to the up-and-coming Americans to the saucy Italians to the masterful French. I love them all equally, for all the ways that they are different from each other.

But my fantasy is to be cocooned in the wonderful world of Chanel, for as long as Karl’s magic continues to reign.

I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s as simple as for the love of buttons. I’ve debated the strengths (and weaknesses, what few there are) of Chanel often with my fellow fashion addicts, and usually the consensus is that there are plenty of worthy opponents out there deserving of our hard earned money.

But for me, there’s only room for one grand amour out of many loves. The buttons–and the tweeds–get me every time. Think I’ll stay in my rut just a little longer.


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