My Chérie Amour
Vintage Red Briefcase, Lancel Paris (1996)
My Cherie amour, lovely as a summer day
My Cherie amour, distant as the Milky Way
My Cherie amour, pretty little one that I adore
You're the only girl my heart beats for
How I wish that you were mine
I have always loved Paris and the French language, but when I was a kid Stevie Wonder’s classic song, “My Cherie Amour,” embarrassed the hell out of me. It means “my darling love.” My parents named me “Sheri” with the French pronunciation, meaning “darling,” but everyone except for my mother called me “Sherry.” People would sing that song to me, and I would cringe. Despite my family’s love and admiration, I didn’t feel like a “pretty little one.” Back then, those lyrics being sung to me felt weird and uncomfortable. You see, in elementary school the boys teased me because of my dark skin and big booty. They called me “blackie” and pinched my butt, then ran away. Now, I know that was a clear sign of an immature boy’s affection. I grew up being told I was pretty but with qualifiers. “You are pretty for a dark skinned girl.” “You have a pretty face for a big girl.” You get the idea. It was not until a young man fell in love with me because of my skin color that I came to love it as well. From then on, I loved that song and felt like “my Chérie amour” was meant for me.
My love for Paris was amplified by my love for fashion magazines and my first French class sealed it forever. My French teacher in high school was an actual French woman with a chic short haircut, red lipstick and a confidence about her I admired, despite having muscle weakness on one side of her body. I can still see her with one hand steadying herself on her cane, while offering the other hand for a student to spit out chewing gum because they were “ruminating like a cow!” I loved her and the language. French became my hobby. I took classes in college and followed with Continuing Ed classes after I graduated.
So, when I read that my friend and fellow Detroiter, fashion designer Cedi Johnson was raising money to show his collection in Paris for the first time, I immediately jumped in to help. Cedi has been a consistent force in fashion for as long as I’ve known him, over 20 years now. I remember sitting in his loft above Nikki’s Greektown Pizzeria mesmerized by watching him create the most beautiful pieces for the likes of Aretha Franklin, Anita Baker, and Angela Bofill to name a few. He is a hometown treasure to say the least, with an eye for what is next in fashion. I had to support his dream come true, showing at Paris Fashion Week on March 4 at The Ritz hotel, the home of Coco Chanel. You can check him out on IG @cedicollectiondc or go to CediGoestoParis.com to support this Black designer making his own contribution to Black history in fashion.
Black Americans left a lasting mark on Paris.
Black Americans have left a lasting mark on Paris dating back to James Baldwin, Richard Wright, musician Sidney Bechet, and the legendary Josephine Baker. All of them found a home in Paris seeking to escape the daily trauma that Black people still face in this country. In Paris they were celebrated for their brand of music, literature and yes, their style. I read that after seeing the beautiful and sexy Josephine Baker, European women attempted to darken their skin to look like hers and dolls in banana skirts were sold all over Europe.
Cedi follows in the footsteps of the iconic Stephen Burrows, the only Black designer to show at the infamous Battle of Versailles Fashion Show, a historic fashion show held on November 28, 1973, in the Palace of Versailles to raise money for its restoration. American fashion designers were invited on short notice and with a low budget, so they could not afford popular and expensive models. As a result, designers made a rare decision to hire ten African American models. I watched the documentary for the first time, and I could see the powerful influence of Black culture and creativity on the fashion industry. It is a must-see if you love fashion like I do.
The most amazing part of the story was how the Battle of Versailles Fashion Show changed the world of fashion into what we see today. After the excitement of “the Queen” Josephine Baker opening the show, the French designers spent too much time on the pomp and circumstance of couture, which felt stiff, outdated and left little for the audience to celebrate. The Black American models included Pat Cleveland, Harlem native; Billie Blair of Flint, Michigan; and Bethann Hardison, the Brooklyn-born fashion activist, who closed the Burrows show with a palpable fierceness the French had never felt. The American designers and models brought the house down without all of the elaborate sets and traditions of French couture. Their show was about ready-to-wear fashions, beauty, music, and passion. It was innovative and the highfalutin audience of royals and celebrities responded with reckless abandonment by stomping their feet and throwing their programs in the air.
Eleanor Lambert, legendary American fashion publicist, the “Anna Wintour” of the day, said this, “Fashion; it’s history in fabric. It frames the time you live and the place you live, and the mood of people.” The show was distinctively America in the 70s amid the cultural and sexual revolutions in civil rights, gay pride and women’s empowerment. The Battle of Versailles Fashion Show put the power of American diversity on full display. Anne Klein, the only female designer selected, consulted with Bethann Hardison on the African motif of her collection. Dominican fashion designer Oscar de la Renta showcased his collection to the sound of Barry White’s “Love’s Theme.” From Pat Cleveland twirling wildly in a vortex of 100 layers of chiffon and stopping on a dime at the end of the runway to Billie Blair’s signature dramatic gestures at the end of the show, now known as “Voguing,” this was a brand of fashion the Parisiennes had never seen before. Furthermore, the models’ mesmerizing performances ignited an interest in African American culture and greater diversity in the American fashion industry.
Left Bank Excitement
I loved Paris and wanted to experience some “Left Bank” excitement for myself. My first trip to Paris was back in 1996 with a close friend and successful pharmaceutical sales representative. She earned a significant bonus that year and shared her trip for two to Paris with me. What’s more, just two weeks before our trip, I was promoted to a new position with a hefty raise too. We thought we were making the big bucks and wanted to see the world. She and I were perfect travel buddies. We weren’t interested in hopping around Europe and spending most of the trip on and off trains. We both wanted to live in Paris for the two weeks. One day we planned to be tourists and the next we behaved like locals in the city. I knew enough French to be an effective translator and she was great handling the logistics to get us around on the Metro. We both knew the currency and had enough money to shop to our hearts content.
What do you pack for a trip to Paris? After all, it is the fashion capital of the world. What do I need to take with me, when all I was looking forward to was shopping in Paris? Packing always felt restrictive to me anyway. What if I felt like wearing something I hadn’t brought with me? How was I going to pull off the vision in my head? I have always gotten dressed like that. Some people can just wear whatever is clean, but that wasn’t me. And what about all of the accessories I might need: the jewelry, shoes, bags, scarves and hats that made my look work. All that stuff weighs so much and takes up so much room. Please note that this was before all of the cool upright rolling bags that are light as a feather and easy to maneuver. My new luggage at the time rolled on its side on four ridiculously small wheels for its size. It wasn’t that easy to maneuver either, because if it was full (as it most assuredly would be) it fell over...a lot.
Now, back to my packing, what was I going to take to Paris? Packing for this trip was particularly challenging because we were going to be in Paris for two weeks and were only allowed two bags. Really? That was simply not possible. Plus, I needed to have some room for shopping, lots of shopping, and souvenirs. Although I had a great solution in mind, I would pack an unstructured bag that I could whip out, pack, and check my haul, if need be. With all of my thinking about packing and shopping and repacking, I gave no consideration what so ever to my size.
A Stylish Curvy Girl in Paris
Like Carrie Bradshaw on Sex and the City, we wore our cute travel ensembles and carried our Evian facial mist for the flight. We sipped French champagne and dined on filet mignon. We remembered to walk the aisles every few hours to avoid circulatory issues and swelling of course. Once we checked into our hotel and entered the room, I should have known something was odd about this place. Our tiny room had two tiny twin beds and felt more like a cabin on a cruise ship than a hotel room. There was a tiny little closet and a tiny little bath tub too. When we grabbed our first bite to eat in a Paris Brasserie, I took note of how few overweight people I saw. I felt a bit self-conscious when the waiter pulled the table out for me to get to my seat. Now that I live in New York, I see it’s done for everyone in these tight little eateries. Nonetheless, I felt bigger than usual in Paris.
When I read the brochure about the famous Le Printemps department store, I imagined watching the runway show and racks and racks and racks of beautiful clothes for me to buy. When I think about it now, I didn’t even consider that being plus size would put a damper on my shopping experience. After all, this is Paris, the fashion capital of the world. When we hit the store, we were mesmerized by the architecture and welcomed by the cosmetics counter on the first floor. We bought beautiful scarves then hit the shoe department until we had so many boxes and bags around us, we felt like celebrities.
Out of nowhere this skinny little French sales lady tapped me on the shoulder and smiled sadly at me saying, “Quel Dammage! Vee don’t have no-ting pour vous here.” “Vous êtes grande taille,” she said as she held her hands out as if holding a big beach ball. The translation, “It’s too bad! There is nothing to fit your big American butt here in Paris!” I will have you know that this was not always the case. In the Gospel According to Coco Chanel, author Karen Karbo described French women in the 1920s as “sumptuous with ample breasts shooting out one way, a small waist, and large bottoms protruding in the opposite direction.” This account was apparently disturbing and inspiring to Ms. Coco who felt compelled to release the women from the bondage of their tight corsets and garters with comfortable clothes made of jersey so they could work and move around more freely. What ever happened to French women? I know they eat enough bread and butter to supplement some curves.
Sadly, unlike America, it looked like the French “fashion capital of the world” had nothing stylish for a curvy girl in Paris. Fortunately, I was a curvy girl that knew how to make it work. I’ve been doing it all my life, even before the words plus size and fashion appeared in the same sentence. My style has always been about using the right accessories to create the look I wanted inspired by what I’d see in fashion magazines. In Paris I bought all the shoes, scarves, hats, gloves and French perfume I wanted. I even bought my first piece from a luxury brand. It was the most beautiful red pebbled leather briefcase by Lancel Paris, a 100 year French luxury leather brand. Today, considered a vintage piece, I carry it as an oversized clutch, and everyone tries to steal my bag.
Now that I think about it, I realized I could have misunderstood that skinny sales lady, like the boys in elementary school. I knew enough French to get by, but I couldn’t discern the nuances in the language, and something could have been lost in translation. Given the history of Black style in Paris, she could have meant something entirely different. The look on her face was simply empathy for me and disappointment in the fashion capital of the world. She didn’t have trendy fashion choices for a stylish curvy girl in Paris, and it was a shame she missed out on the sales. And what’s more, I didn’t even do what I would have done in the US; look for an extra-large or an oversized luxury piece of fashion I would have cherished long after my trip.
Quel Dammage! Whatever size you wear, nothing is going to be a perfect fit. Cultivate your personal style! Because as Coco Chanel said, “Fashion changes, but Style endures.”