LUXOMANIA, Confessions of a salesgirl in the secret world of luxury.

MELANY

  Ten o'clock. Mélany, head of women's ready-to-wear and towering over me at 5'11", comes to greet me. She's only thirty years old, but looks forty. She uses foundation and concealer like war paint. A tall, slender brunette with hazel eyes, she wears her department head uniform with pride. Her charisma and size give her the air of an officer – only the medals are missing. She arrived fresh from London, where she was born and raised. Already highly educated, she earned a Master's degree in French, then joined Selfridges, where she was quickly promoted to manager. She speaks French perfectly with a touch of an English accent. She quickly introduces me to the rest of the team after a bit of unexpected humor:

- "Here, to think is to disobey! We do not ask questions, we execute."

The tone is set. She slips off to grab a coffee.

So I'm left with the other salespeople: Florent, a young man as thin as a rail, and whose only accessory is a pierced tongue – he's not exactly what you imagine a luxury salesperson to be; Suzanne, the oldest in the boutique shop, who will soon be 60 years old and Tatiana, a young Russian woman from Moscow. Suzanne shows me the ropes and points in the direction of the stock room.

--"You'll see, it's very easy. Do you like treasure hunts?"

She gives me a magnetic badge and access code. I'll have to figure it out on my own. The stock room is located two floors higher, and to get there requires several steps. It's like a safe under strict surveillance. First, you have to climb one flight of stairs, then walk to the end of a corridor and punch in a code. The door opens onto a landing. Then you have to climb another flight of stairs, which takes you to a higher floor and a door which opens with a badge. Behind this door is another corridor along the alterations workroom. When you reach the end of the corridor, you have to use the badge once more to finally open the door to the stock room. Thirty or so more steps later and a little disoriented, I finally reach the threshold of Ali Baba's cave. "Open Sesame!".

The stock room is filled with armoires which seem to go on forever. My head is spinning. This is a dressing room beyond imagination and worthy of any red carpet. I walk down the aisles in silence, discovering Astrakhan coats, coats flanked with mink and lynx, taffeta gowns, jackets in python and crocodile, bustier dresses embroidered with Swarovski crystals, printed silk mousseline evening gowns and embroidered with semi-precious stones. Pure ecstasy! Here I am in the presence of the same wonders I admired in fashion magazines for years. I have a burning desire to try them all on, to slip into these dream outfits and transform myself into a kind of goddess, dazzled by the clicking flash bulbs. After taking in all this extravagant finery one by one and wandering up and down the aisles, I sit down on a stool for a few minutes, just to dream and think. I need some time to collect my thoughts.

Rue du Faubourg Saint Honoré is in full swing now. Drawn to the sound of traffic patrol whistles and car horns, I walk over to the windows. Laid out before me are the rooftops of Paris. The colossal Madeleine church – a throng of cars circling around it – presides over the square. There's an endless line to get into Ladurée on Rue Royale, which intersects the famous Faubourg, and, further away at an 180° angle, jutting into the sky is the tip the obelisk in the Place de la Concorde. Its nose is speckled with gold leaf. Tucked away under the roof and surrounded by the most sought-after articles of clothing at the moment, I suddenly hear the phone ringing:

- "Hello, Charlotte? Did you get lost?"

- "Uh, no, who is this?"

- "It's Tatiana, you have to come back right away, Mélany is going to brief us."

I come back down to earth. Mélany is standing there in front of her team, her hands behind her back and pacing. She looks like a general speaking to his troops. Every morning, at eleven o'clock sharp, she begins her briefing to the women's ready-to-wear team.

-"First of all, I would like to welcome Charlotte, who has just joined us. I would like to speak about today's goal. We must reach 13,000 euros in ready-to-wear. The week has been pretty good, so let's try to continue in the same way. Remember to restock the display so that nothing is missing and do not waste your time chatting.

-" Money talks. That's it, have a good day."

She speaks with the sweetness of Margaret Thatcher. Her small regiment instantly jumps to action. I stand there transfixed, a bit confused, not knowing what to do. The salespeople are running around in every direction. Florent breezes past me to get restocks from the stock room. He comes up to me, stops short and says:

- "It reeks of sweat, right?"

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