The Last Collection has the perfect novel recipe: an unconventional WWII story, two great women from history, and a dash of Paris couture.

I’ve never known much about fashion — especially not the Vogue, Paris couture type — but when I read the words “Coco Chanel” in conjunction to World War II in the synopsis of this book, I knew I had to read it.

I’ve read plenty of WWII books in my life, but this one stands out. Through The Last Collection, Jeanne Mackin doesn’t just tell a compelling story with enticing characters: she weaves together the history of World War II with the history of fashion to give us a vibrant image of the past, told through the experience of two of the most powerful women of the 20th century.

The Last Collection is a book about complex women. In 1938, Paris was a battle of wills as both Coco Chanel and Elsa Schiaparelli fought for the crown of the fashion industry through a web of gossip, politics, parties, and of course, collections. Their styles could not have been more opposite from each other, and their dislike for one another at times even descended into violence, but they shared many of the same personality traits. After all, to succeed as a woman at that time, one had to be creative, insightful and calculating.

Mackin tells the tale of these two dynasties through the eyes of Lily, an artist and grieving widow who comes to Paris for her brother, and slowly finds her way back to life through the fashion world and Parisian society. Unlike many of the characters she shares the stage with, she’s down-to-earth and well aware of the materialism that clouds the judgement of those around her — but she’s also discovering Paris, and the difficult political reality developing in the shadows, along with the reader.

Lily is the perfect medium to explore Schiap and Chanel’s relationship, because in her mourning and indifference, she’s wonderfully objective — while also wise enough to keep her mouth shut when it suits her. The result is a conversation that is as intriguing as it is loaded with hidden meanings, which the reader is often left to decipher themselves.

From the two designers to Ania, Lily’s brother’s lover — a married woman who is in too deep, in too many things — and even side characters like assistants and landladies, no two women are the same, and they all have their own story. The conversations between the characters and the overall style of the book is very reminiscent of the era, which allows you to fully immerse yourself in a new reality: Paris in the confusing times leading up to Nazi occupation.

This particular time period, between Hitler’s march into Austria and the occupation of France, is very interesting to explore from the perspective of Parisians. The fear of war seems far-off for them even in 1938, and dangerous politics are rationalized for the sake of smooth social interactions. For the rich, the ability to just leave when the situation got dire also gave them a vastly different perspective of the war than those who had to stay — and those with friends in power, who were not limited by race or religion from camouflaging themselves if Nazi society, had a very different set of priorities than the heroes of the WWII novels we usually read.

The Last Collection is about the fashion world, yes, but it’s more about how different ambitions lead to different — not always entirely expected — endings. And this book doesn’t shy away from the sometimes grotesquely lavish life of the rich and powerful, and how it attempts to cover ugly, corrupt truths.

In this book, the men are dashing and preoccupied with the war, and the women have intricate, deeply nuanced personality. Mackin is uniquely talented in depicting characters who are neither good nor bad: they simply are. As it turns out, neither Coco Chanel nor Elsa Schiaparelli can go down in history as women who were always on the right side, whether it was in the war against the Nazis or affiliations to controversial or violent political groups.

In that era, very few of the powerful could truthfully claim that they weren’t involved in something sordid, or collaborated — however indifferently (horizontally or vertically, as Mackin explains) — in allowing the machine of fascism to rise. Sometimes, to stay powerful is to collaborate. It makes one question the things we read in history books.

Lily’s story — and through it, Chanel and Schiaparelli’s — are told in terms of colors. Lily is a painter, and sees the world through the lens of colors, which also sets the way the chapters are divided throughout the novel. I must say that I didn’t quite connect with the theme of colors, but it was great to see fashion design and art discussed like two sides of the same coin. The vivid descriptions will keep you furiously Googling in an attempt to find pictures of the beautiful patterns and costumes described. And while it’s hard to distinguish which outfits are fictional additions and which were real (a testament to Mackin’s extensive research!), I do recommend looking up images as you read. It makes for a wonderfully rich experience.

But of course, the real spark is always Schiaparelli and Chanel, and the war between them.

The Last Collection is available for order on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and your local independent bookstore. Also, don’t forget to add it to your Goodreads “to read” list!