Chanel Conveys the Couture Composition of N°5 for Inside Chanel.
“I am a consciousness, a way of walking, of thinking, of dreaming, of being true to oneself: a final flourish of elegance. A freedom.”
In its latest Inside Chanel chapter, French atelier Chanel paints a self-portrait of its iconic N°5 perfume, introducing its backstory and role in the brand’s DNA.
The video communicates sophistication, progressive independence, femininity, mystery and historical authority, much like anything else created by the fabled fashion house: Chanel.
One will notice the effective use of provocative, ‘millennial feeling’ language. The fragrance is described as an ‘abstract painting’ with ‘complex fragrance notes’ that will ‘construct an aura’ to evoke the ‘audacity of mademoiselle.’ “In a way, this positions Chanel as a challenger brand from the start— the O.G. of chic provocation— which certainly could appeal more to younger consumers who seek authenticity and heritage from their preferred brands.
To end, I would like to summarise the short film with a rhetorical question: How could the self-portrait of Chanel’s iconic N°5 scent be translated into graphic design (visual identity). How could this be expressed (graphically)? What would the packaging design entail? The typographic style? How would this translate to materials, textures, formats?
Summary: Eggsy always hated snobs. He saw a guy in a suit and it was like a neon light pointing at him with a label of “a douche”. His priorities jumbles a little when he crosses paths with a certain suit-wearing gentleman hogging the counter in a bank while Eggsy is really in a hurry for a job interview. A job interview in Harry Hart’s company, The Kingsman.
Warnings: personal assistant!Eggsy, CEO!Harry Hart AU
Can be found on Ao3.
Masterpost for the whole thing is HERE.
It has a music mix! [LISTEN HERE]
Feedbacks are loved! <3
Notes: betad by bespokes-maketh-man <3
I'm terribly sorry for the delay, I had some weird block (probably still have) that just refused to let me write QQ
Anyway, Harry is so bossy, lol.
****
The weather was merciful that night. There was no wild wind blowing, no rain beating up the ground in its own rhythm, no vicious cold or searing heat. It hadn’t been overly welcoming either, but it was manageable and Eggsy was grateful he didn’t need to search for shelter just to escape the rough reality for a while.
His jaw hurt a bit still and every time he touched it, a quiet hiss escaped his lips. A wave of rage deafened him for a while until he took a deep breath again, counted to ten and clenched his fists.
If he naively believed something would change just because he got a job – and a good job, he knew it was more than he thought he would ever reach for in this field, something he never believed he would do – he was solely wrong.
Yes, his mum was actually happy for him. She didn’t really believe it for a moment, searched for some foul play as he did before as well, but when she understood it was all good, Eggsy felt like it smoothed their relationship again a bit, tinkered it better.
Until Dean came back to the picture.
Nothing was ever good for Dean. Anything Eggsy did gained zero value in the man’s eyes, and quite frankly, seeking his approval was the last thing the blond would do anyway. But he always thought: for Daisy. I’ll try my hardest for Daisy. So he tried to be better, to bottle up his rage inside and not antagonize his mum’s partner further, even though it was a filthy drunk and an abuser and if Eggsy had a chance he would slam him somewhere dark and deep and leave him there to rot.
But he couldn’t. So he tried.
The job was not good enough. Eggsy was not good enough. Or maybe he was just searching for a punching bag, since he came home pissed like he just decimated a liquor store by himself and wanted to fight the alcohol out.
Eggsy was used to it – as much as you can get used to abuse during the years of living together. But it usually didn’t involve him being so straightforwardly antagonistic, ending up with landing a painful hit to Eggsy’s jaw like it was completely normal and then even telling him he deserved it, that he ought to teach him a lesson.
So Eggsy left. He didn’t feel like he could stay any longer, to withstand everything Dean was throwing at him, so even that he had to abandon the warmth of the flat and defy the puppy eyes Daisy was trying on him, it was still better here.
It must have been an hour or maybe two of his aimless wandering when he suddenly found himself in front of the Kingsman, dark and quiet and static. The whole building was tall and majestic, maybe even obscure in its pompous flashiness, like a seat of aristocrats that ruled the country. Eggsy remembered the first time he saw it – the quiet awe and a palpable reluctance to enter like something bad could wait for him there.
Now, when he was looking at it from the street, taking in the small, sharp details, it actually felt more welcoming than his own home.
When Merlin was giving him the hasty tour the first day, he mentioned the building was never fully abandoned, especially because many of its workers had been workaholics that liked to spend more time there than was healthy. Eggsy thought it applied especially to Merlin, but he didn’t say anything.
Now it sort of played to his cards – if he could get inside, there was a ton of unfinished work and the Directive’s board meeting threatening him the next day with the big unknown. If he did a bit more paperwork and prepared it before tomorrow came, it would definitely help, as well as it would make him stop thinking of how he would grab Dean by his jacket and beat him senseless.
He mentally patted himself on his shoulder for having enough common sense for taking his keys and the ID card with him, as well as dragging out the memory of Merlin casually mentioning the back door entrance for the later hours, and prayed for it to actually function before somebody called the police. After all he looked like he just went for a run in his sneakers and jeans and a hoodie, and not like he worked in such company.
The second entrance was on the opposite side of the building, hunched and almost hidden to the naked eye if he didn’t know where to look, and it seemed a little too abandoned and less noble than the rest of the place.
He put his ID card closer to the reader, holding his breath for some reason, and then it beeped shortly and the green light signalized he was free to proceed. The door clicked and when he pulled at it, it opened easily and let him in to the dark corridor, lights blinking unhappily at the intrusion.
“That was easy,” he breathed out and closed the door behind him quietly, like he was afraid he would wake something nasty up if he made a noise. He was here once and remembered it only vaguely, so the trip through the hallway to the lift had been a bit horror-ish, where he waited anything jumping at him any moment.
Like King for example. That would be probably too much for his heart.
Wait, he didn’t even know how King looked like, did he?
Probably an old fart in a suit that costs more than this whole place.
He shook his head and sped up a little to reach the lift faster, and when he finally arrived at the right place, he mashed the button repeatedly. Even though he worked here it still felt like he was doing something illegal and he couldn’t shake the feeling all the way up, and to the office.
The whole building was sleeping, dark and only lighting up when he appeared just to darken once more when he disappeared from the vicinity. When he got to Hart’s office and flicked on the light there, it felt almost too surreal. The wide, airy window that was covering almost the whole wall behind the CEO’s table showed the pitch black night and blinking lights of the city below and reminded the blond of a painting at first.
He took a few steps closer, breathing in the quiet atmosphere and strange anticipation of doing something unusual and finally calmed down a little. It made him lose some of his anger, surprisingly, like the sudden change rerouted his brain, so he could at least concentrate enough for the task at hand.
He rummaged through papers on Hart’s table, not finding anything that would belong to him and mentally scolded the man for having such a mess on the desk. How could he even find anything in all the rubbish?
He checked the watch, noted it was half past nine and dragged himself to his office to boot his PC.
He wondered how comfortable the sofa in the CEO’s office actually was.
***
“The count is 1.5 with the additional… the additional… uh,” Eggsy pinched the bridge of his nose and put down the paper with a loud sigh. His head started to hurt a little and eyes burned from the tiredness, and he was afraid to look at his watch again. He did the majority of the work he delayed until now and his table looked a tad cleaner. When he couldn’t really wrap his head about something, he went back to Hart’s desk and sorted part of the mess just because it was at least something different to do where he didn’t need to think so much. He had a bad feeling his brain started to fry already.
He repeated this about three times until the CEO’s table was perfectly sorted and he had nothing else to do, except of re-reading all the data for tomorrow’s meeting that scared him shitless. The Directive’s board meant King was going to be present, and that idea frightened him. One slight misstep and Eggsy was pretty sure the chairman of the company was going to kick him out without a blink, and not even his boss would save him.
For some reason Eggsy felt like Hart would at least try to – their relationship changed a bit these past few days. It became a little warmer, opener, and even though Eggsy did nothing much besides messing up, it was a little surprising.
Not that he was complaining. He was actually very far from it – the attention from the man was pleasant, and the gestures he made really meaningful, and Eggsy couldn’t shake down the notion of having thing for blondes even when he tried to.
If he tried.
“When I said take your work seriously, I didn’t mean to spend the night here.”
Eggsy yelped and almost fell off the chair when the smooth voice interrupted his thoughts. His heart almost escaped from his chest with the shock of the silence being pierced so suddenly and it took him about five second before he gathered himself back up to look to the door of his office, seeing Hart standing there with a raised eyebrow.
“Fuck, don’t do that to me!” he barked at the man, barely catching his breath, and Hart had the nerve to chuckle and approach the table in a leisure pace. “What are you even doing here?”
“Shouldn’t that be my line?” the CEO asked with a shrug and Eggsy realized he wasn’t wearing a suit like he was used to seeing him, but a simple white shirt and chinos, acquiring a wholesomely different look all of sudden. He appeared more… homey, comfortable and a less serious. At the same time it seemed kinda wrong to see him in it like Eggsy broke some secret code or something.
“What?” Hart tilted his head to the side, apparently noticing Eggsy’s focused stare, and Eggsy’s brain unhelpfully supplied the only thing it could:
“You’re not wearing a suit.”
“I don’t really wear suit all day,” came a calm reply, but Eggsy’s dumbfounded mind just didn’t get it.
“I don’t believe you,” he let out stupidly. “You definitely sleep in a suit too.”
“Of course, and hanging head down so I don’t rumple it,” Hart uttered and crossed his arms on his chest. “So?”
“It feels like I’m talking to a doppelganger,” Eggsy mumbled and couldn’t miss how his boss rolled his eyes.
“I’ll make sure to convey all you say to my evil twin, now tell me what are you doing here at this ungodly hour?”
Eggsy glanced at the clock on his monitor and groaned. It was half past eleven – he usually crashed at this time since he started working here. No wonder he had been so out of it these few last papers he had been reading.
“Finishing work,” he finally answered how Hart wanted and got up from his chair. His legs were like rubber and his back hurt a little for how he was hunched above the text. “Or somethin’.”
“As far as I know Merlin is the only true workaholic I know around here, I’m sure you don’t want to become one as well,” the older man gave him a critical eye. “It’s really late, I’m sure you’re tired already.”
“Ye.”
“So go home, sleep a little,” Hart gestured towards the door and there was softness in his voice all of sudden, like he really cared. “The work can wait for tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“Says a guy who came to work at half past eleven,” Eggsy pointed out and refused to move. He didn’t mean to go home at all today, but now it seemed weird to stay when Hart knew about him. Asking about the possibility to crash on his sofa left a bitter taste in his mouth – there would be questions and he didn’t have a mood for answering them.
“I got a call,” the CEO said simply. “That some rascal is lounging in my office. The security is tight here, you should know that.”
“And they called you?”
“Who else should they call?” Harry shrugged. “It’s my office after all. Not to mention it was obvious it’s you anyway.”
“You should have just told them to leave me alone,” the blond grumbled and fidgeted nervously under Hart’s watchful gaze. He could feel how the question of his presence was approaching in a lightning speed, and he couldn’t think of a suitable excuse even if his life depended on it.
“Possibly,” Hart said simply. “But then I’d miss the true reason of your presence from your own mouth.”
“Work,” Eggsy shot out immediately. “Cuz tomorrow is the meeting and I had nothing prepared, so. Work.”
“Of course,” the CEO hummed and Eggsy could tell he didn’t believe shite he told him.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, Harry, but I was just nervous, cuz it’s Directive’s board and I don’t even know how King looks like,” he tried to coax him somehow, but his body was probably too tense and gave him away. He didn’t really have problem with lying when he truly needed to, even though it wasn’t his favourite thing to do, but now it just wasn’t flowing as it should have. If his boss was perceptive enough, he was going to see right through it anyway.
“Oh, so I haven’t imagined it,” the CEO exclaimed like something surprised him, and Eggsy’s mind reeled.
“Imagined…?” he repeated the word nervously and the smile his boss gave him scared him a little.
“I wasn’t sure at first, you always talk so fast when you’re nervous,” the older man delivered the cryptic message smoothly and Eggsy felt the cold sweat breaking on his body. This wasn’t going to be pleasant, no way in the hell. Not with such expression.
“Ye?” he echoed and his hand automatically grabbed the edge of his desk to gain some support.
“You calling me Harry. Stop looking like you expect me to deliver an execution order,” Hart waved his hand and Eggsy froze. He called him by his name? For fuck’s sake, his brain should really get a filter between it and his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he stammered out. “It’s a reflex, I didn’t mean to-,”
“Calm down,” the CEO dropped his arms from the posture and somewhat relaxed. “I’m not reprimanding you for it. I just wasn’t sure the first time, so I haven’t said anything. Call me Harry if you don’t mind, it’s more comfortable for me as well.”
“Oh,” the blond blinked, a little taken back. “Then… if it’s okay?”
“It is okay,” the man assured him and then gestured towards the door again. “I can drive you home if you want to.”
“I think I’ll stay a bit longer,” the blond tried a nonchalant approach. “Still have some stuff to do.”
“Eggsy.”
“Harry,” the boy tried it tentatively, and yeah, it was better. Like they breached the gap by a mile and that was good. Except the fact that Harry was watching him very suspiciously now, and it probably didn’t mean anything good.
“Did something happen?” Of course he would ask. Eggsy was dreading that question and here it was, strangling him to spit out the truth or a very believable lie, and he didn’t want to give neither.
“Look, I just don’t want to go home,” he decided for honesty that left out the details. He could only hope Harry was going to take a hint he wouldn’t want him to elaborate.
“At all?” Harry tilted his head again, curiously now, and Eggsy nodded.
“At all,” he repeated patiently.
“And you intend to sleep on a sofa?”
“I slept on worse places,” the blond chuckled to lighten up the mood, but Harry didn’t really look like it was very funny. He actually seemed worried and that wasn’t something Eggsy wanted him to look like. It usually meant more questions. Worse questions. Personal questions.
“Is this because of the bruised jaw?”
Eggsy clenched his fists and looked away. It had been what, few hours? And the bruise was visible already, fantastic. He should have just clocked Dean one as well, to feel a little better.
“I fell,” he uttered.
“On somebody’s fist?”
“Basically.”
“Alright,” Harry checked his watch meaningfully and gave the boy a long, calculating stare that made him regret he looked back at the CEO at that point. “So you’re coming with me then.”
“Excuse me?”
“With me,” Harry repeated like any protests were out of question. “Sleeping here is unnegotiable.”
Eggsy opened his mouth but Harry was already leaving the office as if the debate was over.
