President Sarkozy, his wife Carla, Saint Laurent's partner Pierre Berge
When I learned that Saint Laurent's funeral was going to take place on the day I would arrive in Paris, I swore to myself that I would attend to pay my respects to the masterful fashion designer and of course to see other fashion legends that would attend. Alas, it was not meant to be. My boyfriend and I arrived at Charles De Gaulle airport at 7 a.m. and we took a bus that dropped us off at the Arc De Triumph. I pulled out a map I had printed of the hotel we were staying at. Or so I thought. I figured we would walk to the hotel to pass the time since check-in wasn't until 1 p.m. So we walked and walked and walked. We finally got to Rue Saint Honoré where we thought our hotel was (well, that's what my map said) and we continued down the street searching for the right address. As we passed boutiques such as Yves Saint Laurent Rive Gauche, Prada, Hermes, Chanel, Galliano and Gaultier I briefly wondered how we managed to get a two-star hotel on such an obvious high-class street. Maybe we lucked out. Although I should have been in paradise, I was so tired from being up for almost 24 hours that I barely glanced at the stores. I couldn't even drag myself into Prada to look at the fabled Fairy bag.
So we passed a large church and I barely noticed that there was a lot of hubbub around it. We must have gone up and down the street five times searching for our hotel. Then I read a little note I scribbled on my map. It said "This is where Yves Saint Laurent's funeral will be." Ahhhh...my boyfriend was not pleased. We had spent more than hour passing Eglise Saint-Roch where we thought our hotel was. So that's why there were a bunch of boxes that said "Y Saint Laurent" on them. So we took a cab to our hotel which turned out to be only a couple minutes away. After waiting another two or three hours to check in, we finally got the key to our room and promptly fell asleep. The funeral was at 3:30 p.m. I woke up at 4:30. I missed the funeral but at least I got to see the church.
And by the way, remember the flats I bought for the trip? Turns out they really aren't made for "European walking" as the Cole Haan SA told me. My bones felt like they were dying. Thankfully my boyfriend bought me runners which I wore for the rest of the trip.