Early on in her excellent biography Coco Chanel: The Legend and the Life
, Justine Picardie says of her subject that she created an image of herself from "loose threads". As with her clothes and her collections, so with the woman and her life story, it seems - constantly re-worked, re-created, an essence re-interpreted again and again. What that amounts to is that there is no distinct 'black and white' with Gabrielle Chanel, instead there seem to be gradations of grey - evident in the facts of her life which she gave out, altering or amending to fit the image, and in the contradictions which resulted.
As Chanel took scissors to her garments, constantly editing and refining them, she seemed to take the same approach to her own story, making the job of a biographer more that of a detective or archaeologist. What Justine has done so perceptively here is to tease out the facts from the fictions and to present a well-balanced and meticulously researched account of an elusive and enigmatic woman. This is a very readable book (it's also beautifully illustrated and handsomely produced) but could not have been an easy one to write: Chanel comes across as difficult to know and uncomfortable to be with, and I wonder how Justine felt about spending so much time, as it were, with such a hard-edged person.
From a childhood in an austere orphanage at the abbey of Aubazine (which seems to have been the unlikely source of inspiration for the trademark interlinked Cs), to iconic designer, leader of the fashion world and mistress of the richest man in Britain, Chanel's story is a fascinating and complex one. Was her very hardness, her ability to cope with adversity, personal tragedy and loss, part of the secret of her success? In addition, of course, was her sheer hard work and a talent which has ensured that her designs are still greatly revered and highly influential today, but her indomitability must have been key.
Moving from subject back to biographer, what is very clear from this book is - all difficulties apart - the close connection that Justine felt with Chanel. At one point she describes visiting the home of the designer's great-niece and being shown into a bedroom in whose wardrobes hung Chanel's own clothes; invited to try on a jacket, Justine found in the pocket a handkerchief, still scented with her perfume. That almost ghostly presence, that shifting shade, is discernible throughout the narrative, and it seems to me that it is present due to Justine's obvious empathy with Chanel, and this in turn brings another dimension to a supremely accomplished account.
