Imagine walking along a quiet street in a big city. Then, you see one of your heroes– Carrie Underwood, Adele, Dolly Parton. What would you do? Probably gasp, pull out your phone, follow them, whatever.
Katy whipped out her phone and took an Instagram video with the caption, “Caught Celine Dion living her best life in Paris!”
Then, she said, “Yas, queen!” about 12 times in 10 seconds. Which is what anybody would do.
From the other side, Celine looked good and she was working it. Like the queen she is.
"They see me; I don't see them," is Celine Dion's line on the great blob of paparazzi and fans that follows her everywhere. She gives them any picture they ask for, plus a great many more. Consider an appointment with at the house of Schiaparelli, where she poses for the creative director Bertrand Guyon on a window sill overlooking the Place Vendome. She wears a tiny whimsical dress of Swarovski chainmail re-embroidered with yet more crystals and high sparkly Victorian boots–a little Twiggy, a little Tina Turner. Says her dancer Pepe Munoz: "That's a rockstar!" Says Libby Hahn, who handles public relations for the house: "I am fairly certain she was a rockstar before she put on the dress." Says Celine's own longtime photographer Denise Truscello (a Canadian cinephile with her own rockstar style), thinking of the long lenses poised on the place below: "Is the dress pulled down in the back?" Says Celine Dion: "They might see my butt, but I don't think they mind." #CelineTakesCouture Photographed by @denisetruscello
Celine Dion doesn't try to hide her feelings. Her candor is one of her many charms, coupled with lovely manners and an emotional transparency that's unique in anyone (let alone a global popstar for over 30 years). Last year at the haute couture show for Giambattista Valli, she sang, clapped, oohed and cooed, before ultimately going backstage post-show to weep with Giamba and his mama. "No one else was applauding," she recalls slightly sheepishly as she waits to enter the Petit Palais for this summer's Valli catwalk. She is joined by a featured dancer in her European show by the name of Pepe Munoz. Pepe is a Spaniard, originally from Malaga; he is also a budding fashion illustrator (@pepemunozillustrations). Celine was introduced to Pepe by Las Vegas show folks she knows through her butler's wife, who is a dancer herself. ("All the people I meet," says Dion of her Vegas social life, "are acrobats, dancers, or divers. That's family.") Now the two are fast pals, inseparable onstage (her in a jeweled, super-heroic unitard, him in his basic helpless hotness) and off. And so when, this season, Celine decides to express her exuberant enthusiasm for Valli's work it is by making flamenco hand signals to Pepe, who is across the aisle, and his front row neighbors, actress Rossy de Palma and the esteemed Spanish choreographer Blanca Li. And there are far too many runway winners to count. A delicate tiny floral tee-shirt of fully embroidered tulle worn with a collar or harness of black pailettes. Ball dresses of chantilly lace, pleated tulle, or broderie anglais, cut high in the front, trained in the back. This is a full-on Celine show in every sense. Celine's hands are twirling; Pepe's hands are Voguing; Rossy is inexplicably doing scissor kicks…. The models (the lucky ones!) are gliding by in ballet shoes, but the dancing is all going down in the seats. When it ends, Pepe is in tears. Blanca is in heaven. And Celine is saying that next year, if she is on tour in Europe, she will ask to have the whole week of the shows off from performing. "But they won't let me," she laughs, "for fear I will spend too much money!" #CelineTakesCouture Photographed by @denisetruscello.
"What is making the people who are interested in fashion now interested in me when I have always been interested in fashion?" So asks Celine Dion en route to the Christian Dior haute couture show, security guards in tow. She wears a tunic and mid calf skirt, tucked and belted and elevated by thigh high black boots. She has done her own makeup–as is her way–but her precise and dramatic eye contouring is obscured by the massive Dior gold shades selected by her stylist Law Roach (@luxurylaw). ("Why did you make me wear makeup if I was going to wear glasses like this?") Celine began working with Law a little over a year ago, after her husband Rene passed and she began the long road of living again with great loss of a partner ("an amazing man") but also the incredible blessing of "the quality of the time we spent together." More on that later. For now it is enough to know that while Law may have contributed to the answer to Celine's original question–why dion mania now?–the answer clearly lies with the lady herself. She keeps a master file divided into mini files of pages torn from magazines. She circles looks from collections special issues, turns down pages, and despairs when a look or accessory is not produced and the sample unbuyable. Celine Dion knows clothes. (She is also at a point in her life where she can enjoy them. Going to a fashion show "gives me a bit of freedom when my life has been work, discipline, hard hard work.") Today at @dior there was a little work (celebrity gridlock in and out, intense heat which is never ideal with leather) and a lot of fun. Celine admires Ruth Bell's gamine crop ("I really want a haircut like that"), the flatform boots ("the strength today!"), a wool coat dress for day with an open assymetric neckline ("like a calla lily"), the mousseline peering out from the long belted coats. After she said, "I forgot the jungle, the theme, I don't care. I am not buying the animals, the trees. But the clothes?" she smiles. "I am already broke." More on that later, and the significance of one legendary CD to another…. #CelineTakesCouture Photo by @sophfei.
Katy was in Paris for Fashion Week.