Clap along if you feel that happiness is the truth

Karl and Pharrell. Genius. You couldn’t make this up unless you spend your time imagining Kim Jong-un on a caravan holiday in North Wales with Roger Federer or Emma Thompson playing Twister with Donald Trump. But it works. Or seems to, with Pharrell lending much-needed street credibility to the old lady that is Chanel. It’s a bit like watching your grandmother skateboard but the Chanel marketing team love it and, as for the finance team? - they are in ecstasy. Never in their wildest dreams did they ever imagine that it was possible to sell a sweatshirt for £8,000. 

Well done, Pharrell. I love the collection. I love the bright colours and the ‘street’ style – even if the street is closer to Avenue Montaigne than 8 Mile. And even if I didn’t like it, why would you care? The money is already banked, and your next collection must already be on its way. Or perhaps your own brand? Who knows?

Well done too, Chanel. You did your homework. You waited until you had worked with Pharrell for a few seasons before launching a collection. What you saw was what you got. A clean-cut, multi-talented rapper with a good attitude and an appeal that crosses borders and generations. It doesn’t really matter whether you want to sleep with him or introduce him to your mother, he has conjured from nowhere the magical pixie dust fashion craves.

But where do we go from here? Will every second- and third-rate actor and actress demand their own collection? I hope not. I really hope not.