Word: chanel
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...couture runways were littered with hints of Balenciaga's innovative cuts and use of volume. At Dior, the exaggerated shape of a horsehair skirt echoed his penchant for stiff fabrics. At Chanel, Karl Lagerfeld kicked in a fuchsia cocoon coat--an iconic Balenciaga look. Even couture newcomer Giorgio Armani, who began showing in Paris only three seasons ago, referenced the designer with a stunningly simple A-line evening dress...
...modish range of running shoes. French couturier Celine was "enticed by the world of golf" and designed its summer 2006 collection accordingly (think natty culottes, visors and white leather gloves). And this winter McCartney, already onto her fourth workout range with Adidas, will follow Ralph Lauren, Celine and Chanel onto the ski slopes. Chanel's equipment line, which includes branded skis and ski poles, is popular too; this season's tennis rackets sold out, according to Josiane El-Kabbany, the company's U.K. fashion director. Sport was not always this sexy, but daily routines have speeded up and tastes have...
...that hasn’t been pinched, cut, filed, painted, sloughed, blown dry, or moisturized. [...] Because I don’t look a thing like Mia Thermopolis. Mia Thermopolis never had fingernails. Mia Thermopolis never had blond highlights. Mia Thermopolis never wore makeup or Gucci shoes or Chanel skirts or Christian Dior bras, which by the way don’t even come in 32A, which is my size. I don’t even know who I am anymore. It certainly isn’t Mia Thermopolis. She’s turning me into someone else...
...polished, painted, or moisturized. I didn’t look a thing like Opal Mehta. Opal Mehta didn’t own five pairs of shoes so expensive they could have been traded in for a small sailboat. She didn’t wear makeup or Manolo Blahniks or Chanel sunglasses or Habitual jeans or Le Perla bras. She never owned enough cashmere to make her concerned for the future of the Kazakhstani mountain goat population. I was turning into someone else...
...polished, painted, or moisturized. I didn’t look a thing like Opal Mehta. Opal Mehta didn’t own five pairs of shoes so expensive they could have been traded in for a small sailboat. She didn’t wear makeup or Manolo Blahniks or Chanel sunglasses or Habitual jeans or Le Perla bras. She never owned enough cashmere to make her concerned for the future of the Kazakhstani mountain goat population. I was turning into someone else...