Lisa Chaney - Coco Chanel - An Intimate Life

because at such a level wealth is no longer vulgar, it is located well beyond envy and it assumes catastrophic proportions; but I mention it above all because it makes Westminster the last offspring of a vanished civilization… Showing me over the luxurious surroundings of Eaton Hall… Lord Lonsdale said to me, “Once the owner is no more, what we are seeing here will be finished”… his intelligence lies in his keen sensitivity. He abounds in delightful absurdities. He does harbor a few grudges, petty, elephant-like grudges. 9

In 1927, Gabrielle opened a boutique on Davies Street in London’s Mayfair, lent to her by Bend’Or; his own house was nearby. She was soon dressing the Duchess of York and other stars of the London firmament: Daisy Fellowes, niece to Winnaretta Singer; Juliet Duff, daughter of Lady Ripon; Baba d’Erlanger, who had grown up in Byron’s home; Paula Gellibrand, the Marquise de Casa Maury; Lady Mary Davies; Duff Cooper’s wife, Diana; Lady Northcliffe, wife of the newspaper magnate, Alfred; Olga de Meyer; and Mrs. William Arbuthnot-Leslie. British Vogue reported:

Looks designed for sports graduate to country day-dressing and then arrive in town, and Chanel’s country tweeds have just completed the course… She pins a white pique gardenia to the neck. Her lingerie touches are copied everywhere — piping, bands of contrasts, ruffles and jabots. She initiates fake jewelry, to be worn everywhere, even on the beach.

When Gabrielle was asked why Westminster liked her, she believed it was because she was French. She “had not tried to lure him.” As a result of her experience of — largely aristocratic — English women, her opinion was that they “think only of luring men, all men.” Declaring that she had no interest in doing this, Gabrielle came to the interesting conclusion that English women were “either pure spirits (‘souls’) or grooms. But in both cases they are huntresses; they either hunt with horses or with their souls.” 10

The affair between Gabrielle and Westminster was a major item for the gossip columnists on both sides of the Atlantic. Doing their damnedest to follow every twist and turn of this dazzling relationship, they vied with one another in predicting the date of the engagement. Both Westminster and Gabrielle, however, would always remain coy about any plans they had to marry. Though many at the time believed Gabrielle’s own lineage would have made this an impossibility, this may not have been correct. At forty-six, Bend’Or was in a position where he no longer felt the pressure to keep up that kind of public reputation. He had been divorced twice; he had done much in the way of fulfilling his public duty; he continued fulfilling his private duties regarding his estates and his employees; and his thoughts about marriage were now untrammeled by too much consideration for social nicety.

Above all, Bend’Or needed a woman who could “manage” him, who could relieve his boredom with her vivacity, who was sophisticated enough to forgive his infidelities, and, finally, who would provide him with more children than the two girls from his first marriage. He had only partially recovered from the death of his four-year-old son a few years earlier, and very much wanted a male heir. Gabrielle fulfilled all the above criteria: she was independent, strong, a self-made woman of great wealth who was also capable of compliance. Being Gabrielle, she was utterly clear in the maturity, and the Frenchness, of her comment here: “A woman does not humiliate herself by making concessions.” She fascinated the Duke of Westminster and, for now, it seemed that the only stumbling block was whether she could present him with an heir.

For a time, she forgot her obsession with independence and remembered that, in her heart, she had always wanted the certainty of marriage and, now, children. Despite being wedded to her couture house, Gabrielle may have courted a proposal of marriage. She would quote an eighteenth-century Frenchman’s remark: “The English are the best people in the world at marrying their mistresses and asking them the least about their past.” 11In 1927, Gabrielle was forty-four, and it appears that she did her best to become pregnant, including doing everything the doctors asked of her.

Meanwhile, Bend’Or was bored by Gabrielle’s friends. She said, “He couldn’t understand Misia at all, and she couldn’t understand the English at all. He was appalled by Sert, who sawed off swan’s beaks so that they would die of hunger, and who pushed dogs into the Grand Canal in Venice.” Thus, when together, they socialized mostly with Bend’Or’s set.

In an unconscious attempt to cement their relationship, Gabrielle and Bend’Or “made” two houses together. The first was a simple seven-bay classical house in Scotland, never a well-known part of the Chanel-Westminster romance. This was Rosehall House, in Sutherland, bought by Bend’Or as a place in Britain where he and Gabrielle might be more intimately together. Gabrielle didn’t like the decor and so had it redecorated in her now celebrated style. The house has been in a state of great disrepair for years, but its simplicity of decor, with trademark Chanel shades of beige and chimneypieces in painted timber, was significantly radical for the period. It is most unusual as the only house outside France, besides Switzerland, that Gabrielle would ever decorate.

Several of Bend’Or’s friends had villas on the French Riviera, now a most fashionable place, in which not only the French but also wealthy British and Americans were beginning to take their holidays. Monte Carlo was also the site of one of Gabrielle’s new salons. The second Westminster-Chanel house was to be La Pausa. At the top of a small village called Roquebrune, it was on a site with magnificent views down over Menton and the Italian border on one side and the bay and Monaco on the other. Behind the site, the foothills of the Alps can be seen in the distance. Gabrielle bought the five-acre grove of ancient olive trees in which there were already three buildings, and these became a main house and two smaller villas for guests. Gabrielle’s friend Comte Jean de Segonzac had had his own villa nearby restored by a young local architect, Robert Streitz.

Streitz was duly invited to meet Gabrielle and Bend’Or at a drinks party on board the Flying Cloud, moored off Cannes; they were there to attend the preview of an exhibition by Gabrielle’s friend Picabia. Streitz swiftly drew up a magnificent plan, which Gabrielle immediately accepted. This involved demolishing the present house and starting over again. It also involved Gabrielle’s revealing to the architect a crucial aspect of her past. She wanted a great central stone staircase just like the one at the convent of Aubazine, worn in the middle from centuries of tramping feet, and Streitz was sent to look at it. There he met the mother superior, who said she remembered Gabrielle.

From the beginning, Gabrielle was thoroughly involved, coming down from Paris on the Train Bleu at least once a month to scrutinize La Pausa’s progress. She was a testing client, discussing every single detail, from the precise color of the plaster to insisting on the old handmade roof tiles, of which twenty thousand were required. The materials for the rest of the house were all new and costly, but Gabrielle was determined that La Pausa should give the impression of maturity, of having been there for a long time; this included the carpenter “aging” his carefully made shutters. Gabrielle signed Streitz’s plans, “the only signature between us. We never had a contract or any kind of correspondence. For me Mademoiselle’s word was as good as gold. Nine months after the completion of La Pausa every bill had been paid on the nail.” 12

When the house was finished, three wings each faced inward toward a beautifully shaded courtyard, onto which opened graceful Roman-style vaulting. La Pausa was a classic Mediterranean villa functioning as a modern house. Large fireplaces were built into the rooms — Gabrielle disliked central heating — and eighteenth-century English oak was used for floors and paneling. Under Bend’Or’s influence, much of the furniture was from England. Before the costly interior fittings, decoration and exterior landscaping — highly original at the time, with lavender, masses of purple iris and lawns starred with crocus and hyacinth — the building costs were six million francs, four times the initial purchase. Everything was done as the duke had instructed, “with the best materials and under the best working conditions.” Which of the two bore the costs for it all is not clear, but the signature of ownership is in Gabrielle’s hand, and dated February 9, 1929. La Pausa’s beauty was to establish the architect’s name, and he would always feel it had brought him luck.