Jean & Coco

Without Chanel, Cocteau may have died well before his time.

When my grandfather died, he had specific designations for what he wished to happen to the remainder of his art collection – that is, the pieces he kept for himself and did not donate to France; the pieces that did not make it to the official collection of the Musée Jean Cocteau. 

He stipulated that everything he owned – and I do mean everything – was to be donated or sold at auction, with proceeds benefiting his philanthropic causes of choice. His family members had the first pass at the auction catalog, but yes, that does mean that everything remaining privately owned by us are things that we loved enough to purchase. 

I was young, just about fourteen years old. I had just started my first job, working at the Roxy Theatre on the Sunset Strip. I remember my mother showing me an enormous, phone-book sized binder with the listings for all the items that Bonham’s and Christie’s were preparing to sell. 

“Tell me what you like,” she told me. 

I chose a few items which had – and still have – great sentimental value. But I also chose a particular piece which, to date, I still cannot quite explain my reasoning for wanting so badly. However, over time, it’s become one of my favorites.

On a leaf of hotel stationary, Jean Cocteau quickly drew one of his closest female friends. She’s without doubt the most iconic, the most singular name in contemporary fashion history. He immortalized her in her signature ensemble: hat, tweed, pearls. It’s a really cool little piece. 

Of course, I’m talking about none other than Gabrielle ‘Coco’ Chanel, the woman who revolutionized womenswear in the 20th century and whose own legacy continues to reverberate across the fashion world. 

Jean Cocteau was closely associated with the fashion industry in his lifetime, in large part due to his dear friendship with Chanel. One of the many reasons why Cocteau was perceived as a ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ in his lifetime was because of his medium-hopping; his collaborations with Chanel were one of the first instances of this creative wandering that he indulged in. Of course, like most of the things that Cocteau chose to do against the grain, the concept of an artist dipping their toes in the ponds of high fashion is commonplace to the point of banality today. 

While their very first encounter isn’t documented, it’s understood that Cocteau and Chanel likely made each other’s acquaintance in the 1910’s in the salon of Misia Sert. By 1917, Cocteau and Chanel were friends in aesthetic provocation. They likely bonded over their mutual love of a good suntan in an era where porcelain skin was considered to be the standard of beauty. Much of Cocteau and Chanel’s friendship transcended the borders of Paris, and they often holidayed together; Chanel was in some ways influential to Cocteau’s later love of the Côte d’Azur, as she not infrequently would send Cocteau to her villa in Roquebrune to dry out during his periods of heavy heartbreak and drug use in the 20s and 30s.