An overly-eager artist being welcomed into the industry is taken on a bumpy ride as she learns life does not have as many sunny days as she thought. Within the process, she comes to learn that her tour guide is a lot more important to her than she e...
If you told me when I was a young tenderoni that'd I go through all that I have, I might've walked right out of the office that brought me those papers to sign. Some days I still question if it was worth it but it may be best if we never know. I don't mean to sound ungrateful but it's been a hell of a journey. Being on the ride makes it all that much easier to understand where I am coming from. It started about three, four years ago. Let me take you back... Way, way back to a world much different than today.
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November 1983 Chicago, Illinois
"It's been nice doing business with you."
So this was it? This was really happening?
The tall, white man before me was a record executive. The uneven turning of his nostrils distracted me as he spoke. As my mind became lucid once again, I shook his hand. "Welcome to Atlantic Records, Miss Johnson."
My father was to my left and manager, my uncle, to the right. An invitation to a celebratory event was given only for him to kindly decline. I smiled as the three of us made our way to the car. The moment the vehicle was in sight, I jumped into the backseat while my elders were in the front. My heart bumped gasoline through my veins. I'd never been this excited in my life. I've finally made the first step making all of my dreams come true.
"What's next? When can I get in the studio? Today? Tomorrow?" I bombarded them with questions, bouncing in the backseat with excitement as my heart beat out of my chest. "When do I drop my first single? Am I going to have a band? Hey, you guys want to be in my first video? Oh god, I don't even have a concept planned. We have to have a sit down for ideas. Do you have any? When do I go to the Grammys? Will I meet Michael?" Though I had another question prepared, my uncle cut me off before I was able to inhale the air needed to vocalize it.
"Chanel!" My body jolted to a sudden halt. "It's been five minutes. I know you're excited but please for the love of God... Stop asking so many damn questions," said Uncle Dorian. He turned in the seat to face me. "Here's what's going on, kid." I sat up in attention. "First of all, you're no longer Chanel. We all agreed it isn't as marketable as—"
I leaned forward, immediately rejecting the thought. "But that's my name." My face fell as I thought over the simple concept of changing my name. It took me decades to be comfortable with it after all the teasing. Suddenly I just have to change it? I saw my name up on someone's television screen. "You know, like Coco Chanel, the fashion designer? I like it. I don't see how it isn't marketable," I shrugged.
C-H-A-N-E-L
Those six letters in the brightest, boldest letters would make my entire existence. I saw it on billboards and signs all over the country. In another ten years or so, everybody would be naming their children after me. Hell, it worked for Jimi Hendrix. Do you know how many kids in the neighborhood were named Jimi as I grew up? It'd take my toes to count them up. I can have that kind of impact on millions. I can be a star!
