Visions of black and white floated down the forested runway at the Chanel Haute Couture show in Paris. I love that Karl Lagerfeld always weaves in a feeling of melancholia in all of his collections, even with sequins and tulle and floral prints, there's a sense of beautiful sadness in every piece. Maybe it's just the models' facial expressions half covered by webby lace and feathers, though. The excruciating and strenuous hand-sewn sparkle that covered most of the looks reflected Spring in the best possible way, shining and subtle at the same time.  My admiration of the theatricals brought by every Chanel show is reinforced again, as well as my devotion for sexy-demureness (hello, shoulders), and the fact that there were two brides at the finale just topped the proverbial wedding cake for me. And I think I found my future reception dress on Lindsey Wixon.

behold, my dream closet:


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