chanel, the store

I visited the Chanel store on E 57th Street this afternoon. It was fabulous. After seeing the Karl Lagerfeld documentary, Lagerfeld Confidential, two or so weeks ago, I felt compelled to explore the store. When I reached the third floor, I got the chills. Please don't forget, I am a big fan of Karl.

Karl Lagerfeld's creative presence is palpable in the design of the store. That Chanel remains a designer-driven brand today is precisely what appeals to me. Karl's distinct vision for the brand is well-translated on all three of the floors: in the products of course, in the black and white stairs (oh the stairs! it's like ascending keys on a grand piano), in the oversized Murakami-esque black patent camelia sculptures (so modern and strange and otherworldly), and in the lighting (the place was positively luminous like beautiful glowing skin).

But the third floor was my favorite translation of the specialness of the Chanel brand. The third floor captures the spectacle and excitement and headiness of the runway presentation. Which detail did my eye take in first? The cluster of black spotlights arranged in a long narrow row that runs the length of the store, as if to light a catwalk below? The 30 to 50 outfits that seem to float all around the perimeter of the spacious room? The stately seating area that is the room's focal point, aglow in white chiffon and looking like something from Mozart's Abduction from the Seraglio made modern and minimal?

I spent a rejuvinating thirty minutes walking around the store with a pleased grin on my face. Karl had breezed past me in Paris in 1994 when I was there for the Spring shows, and I spent the subsequent three hours calming down from being in his presence. And at the Chanel store on 57th Street, I felt like I was in his presence again.


Chanel
9 E 57th Street
New York
212.355.5050

The Chanel store on 57th, one November day.

At this large size, the signature Chanel camelias take on an otherworldly quality.

The oversized Takashi Murakami-esque black patent camelia sculpture.


The black and white stairs at the back of the store,
reminiscent of keys on a grand piano.


The seating area on the third floor is the room's focal point,
aglow in white chiffon and looking like something from
Mozart's Abduction from the Seraglio made modern and minimal.