Danielle Steel's Blog, page 66

Wow Chanel!!

Hi fashion fans,

Okay, so I lied—-a little. I said that my last blog, on the Givenchy (pronounced Jee-von-shee) fashion show would be my last fashion statement on fashion week in Paris. Just one more? My report to you wouldn't be complete without telling you about the Chanel show. It's just too good to miss sharing with you. And since it was the last fashion show I saw during Ready to Wear fashion week in Paris, you're safe (for men who hate these reports), I really won't be writing about another one, but HAVE to tell you about this one. It is always the best organized, most breathtaking and most impressive show. And it is massive.

Whereas the other shows are seen by several hundred people, there must be a thousand people at the Chanel show—-maybe more, it's hard to tell. It's held in the Grand Palais, a gorgeous 18th or 19th (probably 19th) century glass structure that looks like a palace, and is fabulous in itself.

The fashion shows organized by Chanel are spectacular, and they are spectacles. Last year, at this time, they flew in an iceberg from Sweden, plopped it in the center of the vast expanse of the Grand Palais, and the entire show took place around it, as models waded through four or five inches of water (and the audience froze because the room had to be kept so cold so the iceberg wouldn't melt.). As soon as the show was over, I am told that the iceberg was flown back to Sweden. Pretty cool, literally. And it occurred to me that the iceberg was going to be hard to top this year.

But, they did it!!! I was fascinated to discover what spectacular decor they would come up with this time. People invited to the show were filtered through security and metal detectors at the entrance, and we walked into the vast space of the Grand Palais, (which literally means 'big palace' in French), and we entered what looked like the end of the world, after Armageddon, or a landscape after a volcano had erupted. The floor (miles of it) was covered in fine black sand, strewn with black rocks of varying sizes, and a plain wooden runway made of wooden planks ran the entire length of the interior, and alongside it smoke was rising. It was a scene of total barrenness, rocks, sand, and smoke, with bleachers/benches set up along the sides, and the runway with smoke rising right down the middle. It was stark and strangely beautiful, not a flower, not a shrub, nothing…..just a thousand interesting looking and some very well dressed people. All the regulation fashion editors were there. The Vogue contingent was there in force, Anna Wintour, the most powerful editor in the fashion world (editor of Vogue Magazine) was seated in the center, wearing her customary dark glasses, flanked by Andre Leon Talley, and Grace Coddington (of the fabulous red hair). There was an instant mood of expectation. And finally, everyone was seated. The show began almost on time, unheard of during fashion week—–except at a Chanel show, which always runs like clockwork. Your name is at your seat, and you can actually find it, despite the vast number of people there. They manage to keep everything straight, AND start on time!!!

At either end of the vast space was a large white panel with the familiar double C of Chanel, and slowly the panel lowered like a drawbridge, and more smoke emerged from behind it, and through the smoke one after the other came the beautiful models in the gorgeous clothes. They walked from one end of the Grand Palais to the other, on the plain wooden runway, as the smoke rose around them from under the runway. It was very, very beautiful in a strikingly stark way. Models came from either end, and passed each other on the runway. The clothes were tweedy, loose, comfortable, stylish, there were lots of boots, and for once not very high heels. It was a great look and a very impressive show. What struck me too is how fashion follows real life, rather than the reverse. Years ago, Grunge became the style, imitating the rag tag look of young people in the streets, in torn clothes. Lately, young people wear their clothes in layers, short skirts over jeans and leggings, jackets over other jackets. I don't think any of my fashionable daughters own a coat, they just wear several jackets and it seems to work—on them. Now fashion has noticed what they're doing, and there were skirts over pants in the show, and several layers of jackets. The styles worn by the young have become fashion for us all.

It was beautiful and interesting and fascinating. The stark setting allowed one to concentrate on the clothes. And half an hour after it began, it was over, and we were filtering out of the building and down the steps of the Grand Palais. For me, it was the end of my fashion week in Paris….and it was great. I had a ball…..and now, you can look forward to blogs on other subjects!! But I think it was a great fashion week in Paris.

Love, Danielle

More Paris Fashion: Givenchy Fashion Show

To all you guys who are nice enough to read my blog, I apologize for assaulting you with fashion reports from Paris, but just one more, okay?? Besides, as I just explained to a friend in the states, in France, fashion shows are not considered only of interest to women. The men here (in France, and Europe generally) consider these fashion shows interesting hunting grounds for 'real' men—-they go to ogle the models, and check out the women who go to the shows. That's actually a pretty clever idea; there are lots of good looking women (and men) at the shows. So with all due respect to both sexes, I just thought I'd tell you about the Givenchy ready to wear show I recently saw.  It was a Wow!!!

It was held in the evening, at the Palais de Tokio, a museum for modern art, it was in a very large space, that was quite barren and all cement, and the fashion house of Givenchy had transformed it with the long benches we sat on, and huge archways of green leaves with deep purple orchids over the runway, which immediately suggested a kind of jungle/garden theme. We sat expectantly on the benches eyeing each other with interest, press, journalists, store buyers (who come to order the clothes, which is actually the whole point of the ready to wear fashion shows), a smattering of movie stars, and a horde of people who just love fashion and fight like dogs to get invited to these shows. The tickets to attend are REALLY hard to get, and are considered a prize, to be able to get in. The whole contingent from American Vogue was there, the famous Grace Coddington, one of the icons of the fashion world, with her brilliant red hair that stands out from her head kind of like a Pharaoh's hairdo in red, and the imposing and always chic Andre Leon Talley, who is roughly 6′l0″, and a major presence in the fashion world. Their presence tells you it's a Major Event!!! And we all waited expectantly for the show to begin (they always start about a half hour late). The people-watching was, as always fantastic!!! (I wore a Givenchy black wool coat with a big black fox collar and cuffs, black pants, and my own long red hair down (I like Grace Coddington's better—-it's pouffier, and redder!! I want to be her when I grow up) And I had an interesting conversation with a British journalist behind me, and there were Italians there en masse, Spaniards, I heard some German, Russian, Japanese….it's a very international crowd.

And then the room went dark. I mean really dark, pitch black. And in the darkness was the LOUDEST lion roaring, or tiger, or whatever, I have ever heard. The sound exploded in the room, and continued for a minute, the lights over the runway went on, the music came up, and the show began. The runway runs between the rows of seats, so you could reach out and touch the models if you dared, and you can really see the clothes only a foot or two away from you. Clearly, it was going to be a jungle theme of some kind after that roar, and with those archways of purple orchids. And out came 43 gorgeous, very tall, way too skinny beautiful models of varying nationalities as well, wearing next fall's Givenchy collection, with lots of jungle prints, black jaguar faces on them, skirts covered in leafy prints. Lots and lots of very, very, very short skirts, some with transparent underskirts under them (and I was reminded of my mother in law's comment in my days of mini skirts at l8 —-"is that a belt?"). The tops were mostly jungle themes as well, with some leather jackets, some velvet, a gorgeous yellow sweater, a purple one, and many with black jaguar heads on them, and jungle cat designs. It was hot!!! And very cool, and totally beautiful. Some really gorgeous clothes and some fun things. The show did not disappoint anyone who saw it, it was lively and happy and terrific to watch (although I would surely get arrested in one of those tiny short skirts with the see through underskirt beneath it!! But I could wear the tops!!!)  The whole procession of models took roughly 20 minutes, and then it's over and there is a huge crush to the door, to go on to the next show, meet up with friends or colleagues, or go out to dinner (I picked dinner with a friend). There are several hundred photographers at every show, snapping people on the way in and out, and photographing the entire show, which is the whole point, other than the store buyers, the idea is to expose next season's line to the press. It is VERY exciting being at those shows if you love fashion at all, or like people watching. It is definitely a scene!!!

The Italian designer of Givenchy, Ricardo Tisci, took a rapid bow at the end, and he is the object of much conjecture at the moment, while people wonder if he will go to Dior, since they lost their designer last week (John Galliano). The people at Givenchy are worried that Ricardo Tisci will leave and they will lose their very distinctive look. Last night was really a great show.

I just wanted to share that with you. It was too good, too exciting, and too much fun not to share with you. I'm going to one more show, the last one for me this season, Chanel. And I probably won't be able to resist telling you about that too!!! I had a blast at this one!!!

Love, Danielle

March in Paris….Not Yet April in Paris, But A Lot of Fun!!

It is becoming an annual tradition for me now to come to Paris for the Ready to Wear Fashion Week, which happens in March. It is where French Ready to Wear designers show their wares for next season at runway fashion shows with gorgeous models and gorgeous clothes. And the shows are so much fun. They don't have the pomp and circumstance or decorum and grandiose quality of the Haute Couture shows which happen twice a year as well. But the ready to wear shows are lively, fast and fun, and there are about half a dozen a day, one after the other, and one show more fabulous and exciting than the next. The audience are store buyers from around the world, and the international fashion press, a smattering of celebrities, a few big stars, and fashion aficionados. And it is the final week of what is really fashion month. The first fashion week is to show American designers, and happens in New York. The second week takes place in London to show British designers, the third week in Milan with Italian designers, and the final and fourth week is in Paris, to show the work of French designers. You hear every imaginable language in the audience; there are vast numbers of press photographers. There is excitement in the air, and I love being there!!!

Normally, I would be here with my 3 daughters who work in fashion, but sadly, due to the very recent death of my ex-husband/their father, none of the girls came to this exciting, festive week. But as I had already planned to be at our home here to be with them, I decided to go to a few shows anyway. It's not nearly as much fun without them. And they helped me select my outfit last night on Skype…no, not THAT!!!!!!!! You can't wear THAT!!!!!!!….after many suggestions, we figured out what I was going to wear, which I'm sure didn't look like it took 2 hours to figure out across 6,000 miles of Skype. But hopefully, I looked okay.

More importantly, the show was great. I saw the Balenciaga show today, which was exciting and new and different, woven leathers, layered clothes, interesting colors, fluid shapes, beautiful models, and excitement in the audience, and lots of press. Fashion is an exciting world. The show was held at the beautiful Crillon Hotel, a very old and elegant hotel in the Place de la Concorde. (Notable historically because the original guillotine used to be right outside where the hotel is now, which is not a fact usually advertised to tourists. But there is no sign of it now).

I was happy and excited to run into several editors of Vogue, whom I know, and several fashion journalists I know as well. But it still wasn't the same as being there with my girls. I was also very happy to be introduced to the designer, who is a lovely, very quiet, unassuming man of great, great talent.

The big news in Paris this week is a bit of a shocker. The very famous English designer John Galliano, who designs for his own label, and is the designer for Dior, was involved in an incident, concerning racial slurs, as a result of which he was first suspended by Dior, and then fired, all in the midst of fashion week. Galliano is a man of huge talent, and whatever the truth of the incident is (one never really knows unless one was there), it is sad to see a career shattered, and a life altered by sudden events. The incident and the fallout from it have shaken the fashion world.  People have spoken of nothing else. It is a milieu that is always buzzing with gossip anyway, and this has been a very big deal, and big news. And the big question mark is who will design for the house of Dior now?

So, it's been a busy week. It's fun to see people flooding in from around the world for these exciting shows. I am going to two more in the coming days. And for now, that's the news from Paris….it's not about romance or April in Paris this week…..it's about fashion week in Paris and all the excitement and chaos that go with it!!!

Love, Danielle

Earthquake in Japan

Like the rest of the world, everyone in Paris is riveted by the horrifying reports of the recent earthquake in Japan, and it is heart breaking to watch the destruction, both by the earthquake and the tsunami, and to learn of the inevitable loss of life as a result of those two events. Natural disasters are so terrifying, and remind us all of the force of nature when unbridled. And the threat posed by the damaged nuclear power plant adds yet another frightening dimension.

Like all of you, I'm sure, I am so sorry for the people there. It seems unimaginable to think of what it must be like and how devastating, and frightening.

Living in San Francisco part of the time, one is always aware of the danger there, but somehow one forgets (or living there would be truly unbearable). This recent quake in Japan is a wake up call of just what it would be like. And there was serious concern in San Francisco about a tsunami reaching California shores. There was a tsunami warning in force, but the waves that reached California were minimal, although I gather that there was considerable damage in Santa Cruz, south of San Francisco. But compared to Japan, California fared extremely well. But it is a reminder to all of us on that coast to be prepared, have necessary supplies, and know what to do in an earthquake. A major wake up call.

And for those of you with family in Japan, or friends, I extend my sympathy for what you must be going through worrying about them. After an earthquake of that magnitude, it will take a long time for life to return to normal. And the people in Japan are very much in my thoughts. And if you have relatives there, I hope that they are safe and well and that all will be restored as quickly as possible. The people in Japan are in my thoughts and prayers.

Love, Danielle

Ground Hog Day

Whenever I see that date on a calendar, I think of the movie of the same name, Ground Hog Day, and it reminds me of my own life. In the movie, Bill Murray, the actor, kept living the same day over and over and over again. Every time he woke up, he was living the same day again. The concept is pretty funny—-except when it happens in real life.

I don't know about you, but I tend to make many of the same mistakes again and again, and again. It's not that I'm unaware of them, but our patterns are so hard to change. I have gone to groups, done a lot of soul searching, read self help books, and REALLY worked hard at changing some of the things I do. And some of it has worked, but sometimes, more often than I like, I find myself doing the same unconstructive thing again, let people get away with things they shouldn't, being too cowardly (myself) to speak up when someone is standing squarely on my toes, or just doing the same things myself. I don't want to. I'm aware, but our old habits die hard, and sometimes I hear my own voice and think, OH NO!!! Not that again. I guess life will be a work in progress til the end.

I suppose we need to be compassionate with ourselves and others, for repeating the same mistakes. (No, a husband who beats you up repeatedly is not suffering from Ground Hog Day, he's a sick person who needs help and you need to get away from. But your allowing him to do so, again and again, and not leaving him, although complicated and due to your own history—-there's a little bit of Ground Hog Day to that).

I'd so much rather make new mistakes, than do the same stupid things again. We probably all do it. But I really don't want to ride into the sunset one day, or be l00 years old, and still be doing the same dumb stuff I did at 20. Personally, I think we should cancel Ground Hog Day. I want a fresh slate, wiped clean of the old mistakes, so I don't repeat them again!!! Today is a new day.  I hope you have a great one!

Small Things

I found the sweetest quote of Mother Teresa's recently, "We can't do big things, only small things, with an immense amount of love". I think that is so true in life. I've never invented a drug to cure a disease, have not assisted with world peace, I haven't saved a nation of people, I thought of going to Haiti to help out after the earthquake but I never got there, and I have often said that the work I've done with the homeless is like emptying the ocean with a thimble. The problems in our world are so huge, and only a few people are able to make a BIG difference…..but I think that it's in the small things we do that we make a difference. And if we do them with enough love, it carries the day. I never will win the Nobel Prize, or find a cure for a disease, but if in handing out warm clothes, tools and supplies and food to homeless people, if I saved one life, warmed one heart, or gave one person hope, then my life is worthwhile and was well spent. I think so often we think the small things we do won't matter, but I think they matter a lot. One sleeping bag given to one freezing cold man sleeping in a doorway may make a huge difference, and how hard is it to buy one sleeping bag and give it away on a cold night, or one warm jacket??? Or say a kind word, or reach out to someone you know is sad, or even in despair. It is the small gestures people have made toward me that I remember most, at hard times for me….that one call to see how I was….the one kind word by a stranger on the street….or even something silly like "I love your shoes" has brightened my day…..or a smile on the day I need it most. None of us know the burdens others are carrying, sometimes even the people we know, and surely not strangers, and I think one small, tiny, kind, loving gesture may make all the difference to someone. It has for me. And I think doing it with the 'immense amount of love" Mother Teresa was referring to makes it really count. I think the small things with that immense amount of love are what really count.  Have a great day!!!

Love, Danielle

The Crashing of Antlers

Hi Everybody,

Ah the subject of kids again….adult kids….again. I just thought I'd share a thought I had a while back, which occurs to me often. Someone told me the other day that when adult lions, from a year old on, meet their parents in the jungle, they no longer recognize their parents. (Now there's a thought, no more lending the car keys, or kids home from college turning your home into a frat house for the holidays, with pizzas delivered, in vast quantities, at 2 am). And I would be very sad if my kids didn't remember me, now that they're adults, BUT I do think there's a phenomenon we don't pay enough attention to, that past a certain age, somewhere in their 20′s, when our adult kids are home, from jobs, college, other cities, or even for the holidays with their own families and kids, they become adults (quite naturally) trying to claim their turf. That's probably some kind of law of the jungle too. Decorate a room for a 5 year old, and they'll think you have fabulous taste every time (for a girl, do it pink or purple, for a boy, put superhero or cowboy or astronaut stuff around the room, and you have it made). But try to pick a chair, a couch, or even set an object down in your adult kid's abode and you'll be lucky if they don't throw it at you. If they come to your house, they'll inform you of what lousy taste you have, and ask you where you got all this ugly stuff and when are you going to give it away.

A male friend of mine commented to me several years ago that he used to love skiing with his son, who was in his 20′s then, and suddenly he said it was no longer enjoyable. His son would take him out on the toughest slopes, and run his a– off, and nearly kill him by the end of the day. All I could think of as he said it to me was 'the crashing of antlers'. At some point our adult kids view us instinctively as the elders of the pack, and they want to take over as leaders of the pack and run us off our own turf. They may not be aware of it. But we sure are, as their parents, or I am. Suddenly, at a certain age in their early or mid twenties, daughters are adult women, with their own ideas and taste, and you are no longer mother and daughter living under one roof, but 2 adult women, like roommates, or 3 or 4 of them, and they want to run the show. (It's probably a healthy reaction, although not always easy to live with). And let's face it, there just isn't room for 3 or 4 or 5, or sometimes even 2 adult women running the show under one roof (if you question that, try living with your mother in law. It's the same phenomenon. You want to take over and push her into a corner somewhere, which is exactly what our daughters try to do to us, convinced that they know better now, and have better ideas and taste. Suddenly, they decide we're obsolete, long before we are, and try to take over the reins).

And I think the exact same thing happens with men. Suddenly it becomes a competition among bucks, and adult sons suddenly compete with their fathers, and 'the crashing of antlers' is the result. Heated political arguments that turn nasty, games each side wants to win, and athletic events where someone gets hurt.

I am always thrilled when my kids come home to stay with me in San Francisco, and we share an apartment in Paris, but as they grow up, I suddenly feel as though I have 5 wives and not five daughters, or am living with 5 female roommates, and we are suddenly competing for space in the fridge, too few closets, and a wardrobe that overlaps—–or some really questionable comments about what I wear. (Do I comment on how short their skirts are, the color of their hair, or the fact that you can see right through a blouse? No. But they sure don't hesitate to tell me everything that's wrong with what I wear, own, or buy, or even try on, and not always in diplomatic terms—–all of which would look better on them, according to reports). I've never had roommates, or siblings I had to share a home with (I am an only child); I've only had husbands and children. Most husbands don't care what you wear with only occasional exceptions (my least favorite comment from my ex husband, when I wore a new cocktail dress I really loved, "Is that a costume?" hmpphhh). And when kids are little they either love you or hate you, depending on the day, their mood, whether or not you made them eat their spinach, regardless of what you wear. It's a LOT more delicate with adult kids.

My point is that I think at some point instinct takes over, and you just become a lot of adults of the same sex under one roof. And I think the secret to success (if that's possible) is to treat the situation as you would living with a roommate, even if it's just for a weekend—-with the same kind of respect. Don't borrow her clothes and trash them or lend them to someone else, don't slop up the kitchen, don't leave your friends dirty glasses and pizza rinds everywhere for someone else to pick up (they're not my friends, I didn't eat that, is a common mantra), don't eat everything in the fridge and never replace it (more likely to apply to male children, my daughters eat like rabbits, and only organic foods that look like a science project, usually involving quinoa or grains I don't recognize and have never heard of). I think the roommate rules and 'play nice in the sandbox' rules really apply among parents and adult kids, and applies to both sides. Don't make rude comments, don't play the music so loud that people in another state can hear it, or take someone's favorite CD and then lose it, or shred someone's favorite magazine to put in the litter box. It's all about consideration and good manners, and just being "Nice", once you are same sex adults living under one roof, for however long. And no they can't take over our turf, while we're still living on it, and we are the head lioness in our own homes, or head lion, or chief stag. But I think all that crashing of antlers, and emotional pushing and shoving is really biological for our kids. If your daughter is a grown woman, she probably instinctively feels she should be running the house, and the show (and is convinced she could do it better than you do) and she may not even know she feels that way. And adult sons have an instinctive urge to compete with their dads and do them in, on ski slopes, at golf, at tennis, or just jogging—-suddenly the competition becomes intense.

I am extremely aware whenever I am sharing a home with my adult children that suddenly we are all pushing and shoving to rule the same roost, we throw each other's food away, borrow each other's make-up and lose it, criticize what we wear (or they criticize what I wear). But I think the urge to run the show is normal after a certain age. What we all need to remember is that at their house it's their show (and we need to keep our mouths shut and respect their homes), and at our house it's our show. And in someone else's house, even if you're related, you just don't get to make the rules for everyone else. And as long as we're alive and kicking, we still have our own ideas about how to run our own home. Maybe if we become more aware of those instinctive urges, we can laugh about it. It does give me a new respect though for men who are of faiths that allow them to have 5 wives simultaneously (what brave souls they must be—-not to mention 5 mothers-in-law).  So let's all try to play nice in the sandbox, and remember whose sandbox it is. You can make the rules at your own house, but not someone else's. Maybe remembering that will keep the crashing of antlers to a minimum……and make things a lot more fun when we all spend time under one roof. Good luck!!!

Love, Danielle

John Traina

Since I always seem to share with you what goes on in my life, I am sharing with you now sad family news for us. My ex-husband, John Traina, father of eight of my nine children, passed away suddenly on February 1st, and it is a huge shock and grief to all of us, and most especially our children. We were married for 17 years, and have been separated and divorced for 16 years. But in spite of that, we remained good friends, and very close because of the children, and probably also just because we liked each other. He was a remarkably kind, patient, easy going man, had the perfect personality to be the father of so many children. He was totally unflappable, nothing ever bothered him, and I can hardly ever remember seeing him angry. We would leave for the weekends with 9 kids, a mountain of suitcases, three young women to help us, 8 dogs, a pet pig (who was supposed never to grow bigger than 30 pounds and weighed 200 and was a most uncharming pet named Coco!!!), musical instruments, the kids' friends, a dozen backpacks full of homework, and John never batted an eye, or complained about the noise or chaos. He came up with a creation which was sheer genius and before its time of computers, video machines and modern viewing devices. He installed a TV in our van to watch video tapes, so the kids could watch a movie on the way to our house in Napa, which avoided the refrain of "Are we there yet?". He was a truly lovely person, in many many ways. A handsome, elegant man, impeccably groomed, with a radiant smile. He was movie star handsome when I met him, and until his very last day. The world, and surely our world, will be a sadder place without him.

I met John at a "Gone with the Wind" costume party given by friends at their country home. He was married then, and his wife was wearing a beautiful gown which had actually been a costume worn by Vivien Leigh as Scarlet O'Hara in the movie. John was wearing a Union Officer's uniform and looked incredibly dashing. Late as usual, I ran across the lawn to the party, not looking where I was going, and crashed into the chest of a man in uniform. I looked up and there was John, dazzlingly handsome. I'm sure he never remembered me from that day, although I glimpsed him and his lovely wife at the party. And for a long time after, I wished I could meet a man 'like him'. It never dawned on me that I would be lucky enough to be in his life one day. Eventually, he and his wife became my friends, and invited me to some dinner parties, with my assorted not very exciting boyfriends at the time. John and his wife looked like movie stars to me, and led a golden, elegant life. They seemed like role models of people who had it all, and I enjoyed their company a great deal. I always admired the fact too that John never flirted with me, nor showed any interest in me (not always the case with married men). John was Married, with a capital M, and seemed to be a great husband. A few years later, as I mushed along in my own life, he and his wife separated and divorced. And he called me and invited me out. She was marrying someone else, John was alone and I was amazed that he invited me out. He was nearly 20 years older than I, although he didn't look it, and I thought he was much too glamorous for me—I had a kind of "Who? Me?" feeling about it—he was asking me out??? Me??? How could that be? I never felt so lucky in my life.

We fell in love with each other very quickly. Our first date was lunch on New Year's Day. And it was a whirlwind romance. He proposed to me on Valentine's Day (which was pretty funny, we both had other dates for that night, which we decided to honor, so as not to disappoint anyone, but we let our respective dates know that we had just gotten engaged). And we were married in June. John had two adorable very young sons, Trevor and Todd, who were friends of my daughter's and I knew well. I had my daughter Beatrix, and my son Nick was a baby (whom John adopted once we were married). And everyone loved everyone. It was a love fest. And John was truly the handsomest man I have ever known, and was until the day he died, and a kind one. He made everyone feel special, and I felt like a fairy princess, Cinderella, when I was with him. One of the things I loved about him was that he wanted more children, and so did I. We had five more together, Samantha, Victoria, Vanessa, Maxx, and Zara. We filled our house with love and light, music and laughter, and a lot of kids!!! And we shared 17 wonderful years.

As happens sometimes in life, dreams fade, reality gets the best of us, things happen, people disappoint each other, or tragedies occur. My son Nick was desperately sick for our entire marriage, which was a challenge, my career was demanding, I'm more of a homebody, John loved going out and having a huge social life, which I didn't always have the energy for with nine kids at home, one of them very ill, and constant deadlines. We were at different points in our lives, he in the final stretch, the fun part, he retired early and had more time to play than I did. And I tend to be a more serious person, and was happy at home with the kids, or working. And after 17 years, with great sadness, we parted ways, but we remained very close. Even after our divorce, my house was always open to him; we spent wonderful times together with the kids. He spent every holiday with us, came to dinner often, we took real pleasure in seeing each other, with and without the kids. And our Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays were legendary among people who knew us, because in an effort not to pull the kids in different directions, not only did John spend the holidays with us, but so did his first wife, her new husband before he died, and her mother, who is like a grandmother to my children, and a cherished member of our family, she is 93 now and going strong.

John was a man of a thousand interests, always fascinated by a variety of topics. He loved classic cars, beautiful antiques, had an incredible wardrobe and was the best dressed man I know. He was impeccable, perfect, beautiful, and he had a knack for spreading beauty around him. He thoroughly enjoyed his kids, his friends, his homes, his travels, new adventures, exotic places (where I would have been terrified to go). He loved his dogs. He was full of life and added excitement and glamour wherever he went. And he always looked 20 or 30 years younger than he was, time just didn't touch him, somewhere on his travels, he must have found the fountain of youth!!!

He'd had some heart problems in recent years, but managed them responsibly, and continued living a great life. He was planning to have a minor procedure right before Thanksgiving, or right after, and in the blood work, they discovered something amiss, and ran some tests. The tests came back on December 15th, he had acute leukemia, but even then, he was cheerful and optimistic, which was so characteristic of him. And we know several people who have lived years with leukemia, and have done well. We shared Christmas with him, afterwards he went to Mexico with friends, and in mid January, he was to have chemo, to deal with the leukemia. And even then, he looked handsome and debonair and tolerated it well. And then suddenly, the house of cards came down, he had 3 rapid heart attacks toward the end of chemo, but even then he and we were convinced he'd be fine. He assured us he would be!! And we believed it too. Thinking he was alright, and he certainly looked it, and was very positive, I left on a trip, and we chatted twice on Skype, several times on the phone, and often on email. He sounded good. The first time we skyped he looked great, the second time less so. The morning that he died, he had breakfast with some of the children, and dressed carefully for a visit to the hospital to make sure that he was alright. He had moved back into my house during chemo, so he would be more comfortable and could be near to our children. And off he went to the hospital that morning, after breakfast, and they rushed him into surgery for his heart. Much to everyone's horror, he didn't survive the operation, and at 5 o'clock that afternoon, he died. All of our children were with him, and sadly I was in Paris, but spoke to him the night before, when he still assured me he was fine. John did everything decisively and quickly, just as he proposed to me 6 weeks after we started dating—-6 weeks after the diagnosis, he was gone. He left quickly and elegantly, leaving our entire family to mourn him, bereft to have lost such a lovely man. Everyone is shocked, and all of us are stunned and saddened, but I also realize that this is probably the way he would want to go, quickly, simply, still looking handsome and feeling well until almost the last minute. He would have hated to be diminished, old and sick. He was nearly 80, and looked barely sixty (I will enclose his obituary here, and the photo attached is not an old one, it is from only last year. What 78 year old man do you know who looks like that? And aside from the good looks, he exudes vitality and life). The greatest sadness, other than losing him, is that our children are still very young, in their early 20′s, much too young to lose a parent, and a man like John is a lot to lose, as a parent, loved one, or friend. His loss will be felt by all for a long, long time. And it says a lot about a man to be mourned by many children and two wives. We all loved him deeply.

John Traina wasn't a sad person, he was a happy man. He led a good life. When he saw one of our daughters crying at the hospital recently, he allowed her 6 seconds to cry and then she had to stop. John was all about living life, without regrets, without tears, without fears. He lived it fully and he had fun, and everyone around him had fun too. He wouldn't like to see us crying, or sad. We held a private funeral a week ago and a memorial the following week for his many friends. And then there was a big reception at my home, with music and laughter and people, which is exactly what John wanted. John was all about celebrating life. So we will have to go on, keep our chins up, remember him with loving smiles……and having had him in our lives, he blessed us all. His exit was as elegant as he was…..he danced on, leaving us with all the happy memories of the wonderful times we shared. What an extraordinary man he was, and how lucky we were to know and love him.

DS

John A. Traina, Jr.

26 September 1931 – 1 February 2011

John A. Traina, Jr. (26 September 1931 – 1 February 2011) passed away last Tuesday in San Francisco. Beloved father and grandfather, notable society figure, entrepreneur, civic leader and San Francisco legend, John Traina attended Grant School, Lowell High School, graduated from Stanford University '53, and served in the U.S. Army in the Pacific. He enjoyed a long and respected career in shipping (American President Lines, Grace Lines, Prudential Lines, Delta Lines) and was among the first to start cruises into China. Traina engaged in numerous pursuits, with vineyards in the Napa Valley, was the author of two books ("Extraordinary Jewels" and "The Fabergé Case"), was a world traveler and famous collector of important objects. He had the largest collection of Fabergé cigarette boxes exhibited in museums around the world. Interested in everything, engaged in many endeavors, beloved by all, Traina had a passion for exotic travel, lived in Washington, D.C. in the 1960's, and loved his homes in San Francisco and the Napa Valley. He was extremely elegant, known for his impeccable style and limitless charm, he added glamour and sophistication to the San Francisco social scene for his entire life. He is survived by three sons, Trevor, Todd and Maxx, and four daughters, Samantha, Victoria, Vanessa, and Zara, and was the father of the late Nick Traina. He was the stepfather of Beatrix Lazard Seidenberg. And he was the grandfather of Johnny and Delphina Traina, Daisy Traina, and Sebastian and Isabel Seidenberg. He is also survived by two ex-wives Diane "Dede" Buchanan Wilsey, and Danielle Steel. He was married to each for 17 years. He is also survived by a sister, Marisa Traina Hahn, three nephews and a niece. Funeral services will be held privately. A memorial service will be held at The Maritime Museum, 900 Beach Street, San Francisco, 94109, on Friday, 11 February, at 2:00pm. The family requests that memorials be contributions to the California Historical Society, 678 Mission Street, San Francisco, 94105, or The Nick Traina Foundation, P.O. Box 470427, San Francisco, 94147.

Valentine's Day

Now there's a big subject. A BIG subject. Valentine's Day. And people think I know about these things. I'm not so sure I do. I've told some of you before, I got off to a rocky start with Valentine's Day, I was the only girl in 3rd grade who didn't get a Valentine. It sucked. But I was only 8 then, so at least there was some excuse. And since then, I had one marriage proposal on Valentine's Day (I accepted, but we actually both had previously accepted dates with other people that night, which we kept. He proposed to me at lunch. And my date that night wasn't too pleased when I told him I was marrying someone else. Oops!!! Eight of my 9 kids were the result of that marriage proposal, so it was a good one!!)

I have a pretty checkered history with Valentine's Day, some great years, and some really bad ones. Confident ones when I was married, and knew exactly who my Valentine would be that year (for l7 years in one case, and 8 years in another). And then there have been some real slumps.  Relationships seem to be harder to come by these days, at every age. I think somehow Internet has created distance between people, while appearing to bring people (strangers in many cases), closer to each other. And I'm just not convinced that's true. People are 'chatting' with total strangers, hoping to find true love, sending text messages instead of calling someone to hear their voice, and say I love you, or trying internet dating services to find The One. Something about all that suggests to me that people are having one hell of a hard time meeting the right people, although I know several people who met their spouses on the Internet, so clearly it works some of the time. Nothing in life is perfect. But I also think that people have a harder time committing these days. Nobody is sure, and most people are scared. Sensibly, no one wants to get hurt, or disappointed. They don't marry as young, or have kids as young, they're not rushing out of college to get married (and make some huge mistake). They're staying single a lot longer, women make bigger incomes and aren't necessarily looking for husbands to support them as they used to, and men are a lot more skittish, and maybe rightly so.

There is some real history here. My parents' generation too often stayed married to people they shouldn't have married in the first place, and were miserable for years, sometimes an entire lifetime. They didn't want to get divorced, and staying married for 50 years to someone they didn't love became some kind of honorable goal. (It doesn't sound good to me. And my parents were the exception. They got divorced when I was 7, which was considered scandalous then!!). And in reaction to that, my generation, I think, got divorced too easily and sometimes too often. If they were unhappy, they bailed. And subsequent generations look around them, see all the wreckage, remember the bad stories we told about divorce, alimony, custody battles, and they are the generation that suffered for our mistakes, and many don't want to get married at all. Marriage is not essential to romance. You don't have to get married if you love someone. I think it should be a natural evolution, not a goal. And lots of people have children these days without getting married. But I think all of these things are signs that romantically, these are hard times. I guess somewhere out there are people who are madly in love, making good decisions, and they will live happily ever after. To be honest, I am jealous of them. I can't think of anything better than loving someone, being loved back, and being in the right relationship. That is an incredible blessing.

But for those of us who are alone (at the moment—-do NOT give up hope. there are lots of great stories of true love found, unexpectedly, and at every age!!), I think many of us assume that everyone else is in a great relationship and we're not. And that's just not the case. Some people really ARE in great relationships, even ones that will last (so take that, you cynics, who think nobody ever gets it right!!! Some really do!!), and other people are in relationships we wouldn't want on a bet—they just look good from the outside, and we really have no idea what's going on behind closed doors. And it's better to be alone than with a bad person, or even the wrong one (or at least that's what I tell myself on cold nights, but I think it's true).

So here we are. I don't know what your Valentine's Day will look like this year. I hope you get tons of flowers, terrific cards, and a pile of chocolates (your dentist will be thrilled!!), or better yet just one valentine from the person you love, and who loves you just as much. I think Valentine's Day is absolutely wonderful if you're in love. If not, you can send friends a bunch of really rude cards, and try to forget what day it is when it comes around. Try to remember that if this Valentine's Day isn't a great one, there is an excellent chance that next year will be better, no matter how old you are. It's not over til it's over, and as the French say "love has no age". It can hit you anytime, and does. So don't give up.

If it's a great one for you this year, I salute you. If not, take heart, there are plenty of us in the same boat. It's kind of like a club you may or may not get invited to join—-this year. And nothing feels worse than being left out. I'm afraid that I'm in for a replay of 3rd grade this year, but that's the way it works sometimes. Look at it this way, you can buy your own box of chocolates and you don't have to share them with anyone. Keep your chin up……and I still believe in love. Have a great Valentine's Day, no matter what. I love YOU.   Danielle

Chanel Haute Couture Show in Paris

Hi Everybody,

Well, for you fashion fans, like me, it's that time of year again. The high fashion, 'haute couture' shows in Paris, which are becoming fewer and fewer and rarer and rarer. Ten or more years ago, haute couture week (twice a year) in Paris was a 7 to l0 day event, with 3 to 5 shows a day, and it was a BIG deal for people who love fashion. The shows were absolutely fabulous, with about 75 looks shown, each one on a model, a whole outfit, with jewelry, shoes, accessories, make up, hair, hats. It was breathtaking, and the shows cost millions to put on. But in its day, haute couture week was a week long event, chock a block with the most beautiful clothes you've ever seen. Ever!!! And to qualify as 'haute couture', every single garment must be hand stitched, there can't be a machine made stitch on the piece. Intricate beading, sequins, and embroidery were commonplace and magnificently done, all hand done!!! And all of it was worn by about 40 of the most spectacular models in the world. Unforgettable, all of it.

Fast forward to today, and it is a two day affair, with very few shows, and the only remaining design houses from those days of grandeur still in operation are Givenchy, Dior, Chanel, and Gauthier. Givenchy opted to have a 'presentation' this year on their premises and not a full fashion show. The houses are dwindling, the audiences smaller, the art form nearly lost, which for those of us who saw it in its days of glory, is a real loss. I used to take my daughters with me when they were 6 and 8 and l0 years old, and now they're thrilled they saw it then. There's no telling how much longer haute couture will last. Probably not long, sadly.

So today was one of the two magical days, the fashion shows are in January and July for haute couture, and in January they show summer clothes, and in July, they show winter clothes. The shows were originally set up for clients to check out the clothes and order what they wanted to wear the following season. The price of haute couture has basically dwindled their client base to nothing, and the fashion shows are filled with press, publicity people, fashion journalists, fashion fans, and very few clients. And about 300 photographers from around the world cover the event. It has the kind of hoopla going on outside much like a movie premiere, as celebrities and guests press their way into whatever building the show is held in. Chanel is the only haute couture show I still go to (and there are several young, newer designers who show on those days, but I am a diehard loyal to the traditional designers, so now I'm down to just going to Chanel.) Two of my daughters who work in fashion, Victoria and Vanessa, went with me. Samantha, who also works in fashion and often comes with me, couldn't make it. Victoria wore a fabulous gray Balenciaga jacket, Vanessa wore vintage Yves Saint Laurent, and I wore a Chanel jacket, to show the flag for the house, so to speak. I try to wear something by the designer whose show I'm seeing. And the shows take place in Paris of course, still mecca of the fashion world.

And what a show it was. Some shows are more exciting than others. Some are all about the spectacle, others only about the clothes. And in this show, the clothes were just spectacular, paid homage to the beauty and grandeur of high fashion, and were still wearable in our modern world (if you can afford them. with everything hand made to order, the prices are out in the stratosphere somewhere. And the Chanel jacket I was wearing was ready to wear, not haute couture).

There was lots of pale pink, lots of black and white which is typical Chanel, sequined leggings, incredible minute beading work, gauzy gowns on beautiful young models. It was the most beautiful and wearable haute couture collection I've seen in years. My daughters and I were drooling it was so beautiful. And if I had a fairy godmother, she could have given me at least l0 outfits of what I saw today. Wow!!! Sitting next to me was an adorable looking l0 year old girl, it was the first show her mother had taken her to, and it reminded me of my own daughters at that age, not so long ago. At the haute couture shows, the models walk down the runway right in front of you, about two feet away. It was a gorgeous, gorgeous show!!!!

And worth noting is the incredible designer who designs Chanel, ready to wear, haute couture, 6 ready to wear collections a year (he also designs for Fendi, I believe, or some other fashion house, and has a side activity of beautiful photography). The genius behind it all is Karl Lagerfeld, who is turning 80 years old, is a wellspring of energy and creativity, youthful, vital, powerful, talented, a genius of our time. Just coming up with 6 ready to wear collections and 2 haute couture ones every year is beyond incredible, along with designing for another house. His talent is breath taking, and the clothes that drift past you down the runway on beautiful young girls can't help but make you dream. Just being there makes you feel like Cinderella for a few minutes….(last summer I fell in love with an intricately embroidered coat that was embroidered to look like a Chinese coromandel screen; totally Incredible, and truly a work of art).

I am so grateful that a tiny piece of this magical fashion world still exists. It's still a treat to see it every time. And of course celebrities come to attend the shows. Kirsten Dunst, the actress was sitting across from me, and there were others throughout the audience. And next month will be the ready to wear fashion week in Paris which is wild and busy and wonderful and fun, filled with stars and celebrities, showing clothes people can actually afford. I usually attend those shows with my daughter Samantha, which is a thrill for me……and today was a tribute to the haute couture shows of years past, and a piece of fashion history. It was beautiful!!! Love, Danielle