Coco Chanel_ An Intimate Life - Lisa Chaney [210]
In 1960, when Gabrielle’s favorite, Marie-Hélène Arnaud, had been employed by her for six years, she told Gabrielle that she didn’t want to be a model forever. Gabrielle tried to keep her by hiring her father, an academic, at a huge salary. Apparently, M. Arnaud had heard that Marie-Hélène was going to be made director of Chanel and would need help. In the hope of dissuading Marie-Hélène from leaving, Gabrielle had hinted at this herself. Marie-Héléne said she felt no animosity toward Gabrielle: “I loved Coco . . . it never crossed my mind that someday I would replace her.” But Gabrielle was unconvinced, felt threatened and when the young woman did leave—her father followed soon after—Gabrielle spoke ill of them, hurt at what felt like rejection by the lovely Marie-Hélène. Gabrielle turned a good many friends away in these years in a similarly unjust fashion; a few, such as Serge Lifar, put up with her inconstancy, although even he tended to see her less.
As a solace, during these years, Gabrielle came to rely much on her small group of younger friends and assistants. These included her butler, Jean Mironnet—“François,” as she called him—and two or three young women. François, the son of Norman peasants from Cabourg, was a man who didn’t speak too much, and unlike Gabrielle’s more sophisticated and better informed friends, there was much she could teach him. Whatever his private thoughts, François looked up to her, and a few years before her death, Gabrielle promoted him as a kind of companion. He was often by her side, sat silently behind as she worked on her collections. He kept her pills and gave her the water to take them with, was ready to help if she needed an arm on the stairs, remembered anything she might have forgotten. He was invited to eat with her and accompanied her when she traveled, now only to Switzerland. “Monsieur François” was Gabrielle’s “quiet gentleman-in-waiting,” who did his best to make sure she was rarely alone.
Aside from her models, the significant young women in Gabrielle’s life were her great-niece, Gabrielle (Labrunie); Claude Delay, daughter of the psychiatrist Jean Delay; and Lilou Grumbach (née Marquand), Gabrielle’s assistant from the late fifties onward. Lilou Marquand’s actor brother was Christian Marquand, friend to Roger Vadim. He was also friend to the Mille brothers, Paris Match editor Hervé and interior designer Gérard. (The Milles’ rue de Varennes apartment was one of the most powerful postliberation Parisian salons, and Gabrielle felt at home there. Hervé and Gérard were old friends who had known her since 1935, and Hervé regularly did “battle on her behalf.”) Lilou Marquand, meanwhile, had made a botched attempt at meeting Gabrielle, and asked the Mille brothers for their help. They told her they were going to dinner with Gabrielle that very evening; why didn’t she come along? Someone mentioned to Gabrielle that Lilou would like to work for her, but she made no comment. Then, as everyone was leaving, she said to Lilou, “You’re starting on Monday.”
After Marie-Hélène Arnaud’s departure, Lilou found herself being taken more into Gabrielle’s confidence. In theory, her job was handling press and public relations; in practice, her role was far more extensive than that. Among other duties, she acquired responsibility for photo shoots and was in charge of the dressing rooms, the cabines. Seeing Gabrielle almost every working day for the last fourteen or so years of her life, Lilou came to know her well. She was strong enough to withstand Gabrielle’s rages and outspokenness, and while remaining an employee, she also became an intimate. In an interview with the author