À la recherche du temps perdu — Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris
Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris
I watched the film.
Everywhere, there was the scent of a Paris I remember so fondly. It felt like a dream.
It is based on a novel by the English writer Paul Gallico.
Mrs. Harris works as a cleaner in London.
She is in great demand, and works without rest.
One day, at a client's home, she falls in love at first sight with a Dior dress that belongs to the lady of the house.
And she decides that she will buy a Dior dress of her own, saving every penny she can.
At last she arrives at the House of Dior in Paris.
She is bewildered by a world so unlike her own.
But the maison casts a spell on her.
At the collection, her face, as she sees the dresses, is full of joy.
It is heartwarming to watch the seamstresses in their white coats fitting her.
The head model, who reads Sartre's existentialism.
A charming marquis invites her to tea, and she remembers what it is to be in love.
In her, the marquis saw the cleaner at his boarding school, "Mrs. Mop."
That part was bittersweet.
In romantic Paris, she finds a reason for her own existence.
The joy of owning a dress that exists nowhere else in the world.
And at the same time, the dawn of an era in which haute couture would put the business itself at risk.
"Mrs. Harris, why do you want a Dior dress, and where would you wear it?"
"I want a dream."
Every human being has the desire to own things.
And a reason for being.
By owning a dress, she confirms her own existence, and understands the meaning of holding on to a dream.
And that dress is born from the hands of many people.
Wasai is the same.
Shaped by human hands, and then worn, it begins to breathe.
It begins to move.
In a maison, or in a workshop.
With a single piece of cloth, we can show the reason a person exists.
You may never wear a kimono. But you can wear the art of Wasai.
On ne porte pas forcément un kimono. Mais on peut porter l'art du Wasai.
— PASSIONEER
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