The small town I live in is abuzz with the news.
It’s the biggest thing to happen since the birth of Mary Queen of Scots.
And when I first heard about it, I thought it was an early April Fool.
Chanel has chosen to stage a fashion show, right here where we live.
(Well, not in our house exactly – that would mean I’d have to clean the living room and invest in a lorry-load of Febreze!)
But in the centre of town.
It attracts quite a lot of tourists, for the ruins of the old palace where Scottish royalty was born a mere 470 years ago.
So it sounded plausible that creative director Karl Lagerfeld would choose our town to stage Chanel’s latest event.
The palace stands within stunning grounds, bordering a loch filled with swans. If money were no object you could really do something special with such a breath-taking backdrop.
But the likes of Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie and Keira Knightley? Walking around the area where we first taught Brodie to ride his bike? Where we throw bread to the swans at weekends?
You’re having a giraffe!
It seems not. Because just the morning after a neighbour told me the gossip, it hit the newspapers.
So it must be true.
Blake’s old playgroup may have to give up its room so skinny models can change from couture gown to couture gown.
Hard to imagine Kate Moss disrobing in the same spot my little boy has made stick figures out of pipe cleaners.
It’s like a prophecy coming true!