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Writer's pictureCerys Jones

Conversations over Goat's Cheese with a Fashionista.

Denise is our next-door neighbour, in the small, Breton village of Kersiguenou. Over several dinners of abundant crêpes and cider, and tagliatelle, red wine and odorous aged goat’s cheese, she recounts with zeal, and maybe a dose of pride, her fascinating adventure of a life and career.


“I arrived in London as an au-pair when I was eighteen. I packed little more than a tweed jacket and a red satin dress!” she exclaims, describing how, from thereon, she was catapulted into the blossoming fashion industry. From humble beginnings in Brittany to Parisian high-life, parties and receptions, haute couture with all the trimmings. She explains how she worked for years as an administrator to many a fashion-high-flyer, before being employed as a personal tour guide in Chanel’s private home. On a career which has taken her from New York to Kyoto, she indulges my curiosity, and describes the likes of which she’s mingled with, from Lily Rose Depp to Rihanna, to the oldies like Mugler, Givenchy and Lagerfeld, whom she insists on referring to as ‘Karl’. She likes to emphasise their first-name basis.

Nowadays she spends her summers in the idyllic region of her youth, hosting the likes of my mother and sister and I. With all this talk of fashion, I was a little self conscious to the fact I probably hadn’t washed in several days, and the underside of my feet were resembling a dirt track. It’s a good job the cheese had such a strong smell…


Below: footsteps on one of Brittany's many sandy beaches. What footsteps each encounter leaves behind...




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