Christian Dior
The image maker
This little old lady so small and timid, but as vigilant as the morning bird. Her hair, dark as coal, full and lustrous; fallen in a deep wave all the way down her back.
Her presence was very heavy, as was her musky coated perfume. It lingered a few moments as she glided past you, indulging you in her senses before it journeyed on to the next entanglement of gathered bodies.
On her arm laid a fixation, so precious to her and as old as the day she was born.
Its preciseness was not to be missed; it held an aurora of its own. Setting a trade mark in its owner’s possession but stood tall and proud, if left to its own devices.
Its statement is its label. That brand for a luxury spender, carefree with no cash flow interruptions. The little old dark haired lady carried an item that took her on lunch dates, dinners with her daughter and meetings with clients.
Christian Dior, an image maker, a story teller.
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