Did you ever get the feeling of immense satisfaction with your life?

That you felt like nothing could ever go wrong?

Because you had everything you had asked for?

That was how I was feeling.

Third day in Paris and I felt like I owned the entire city.

I had never been that happy, or at least, I couldn’t remember the last time I was that happy.

Ironic because it was our last day in my favorite city and we were to fly off to Seoul in the evening.

But I was still happy.

It was all because I was at the Chanel store.

For our last day, we had been given the bonus of exploring the city. Maybe visit some restaurants and try some French food. Buy some souvenirs. Take selfies to post on Instagram.

The members had decided to do all this for our last day.

As for myself, I had decided not to come along but follow the plans I had written down on the itinerary I had made.

Basically everything on my itinerary began with the same word: Buy.

Last on my list was "Buy something at Chanel."

And Chanel was only my favorite name to wear.

Everything inside their boutique was heavenly.

It smelled like heaven and I hoped heaven did really smell like that.

I looked around, browed at the items. The clothes felt like bliss on my touch. I could practically hold them to my cheek and caress them. But then the real star of the show was this limited edition bag sitting atop the shelf in the middle of the boutique.

It was like it was calling out my name.

“Mina! Mina!”

I could hear it.

“Come! Look at me!”

I walked to it and saw it up close. It was a real beauty.

“Buy me! Buy me!”

I was mesmerized by its simplicity and uncanny design. I was so enthralled that I was hearing things. Like it spoke to me and urged me to buy it.

“There is only 20 like it in the world,” the store manager said. His accent too was divine to my ears. “And this is the last one we have.”

He joined me in the staring contest I was in with the bag.

“Do you have this in your Seoul boutique?” I asked, not tearing my eyes from it.

“No,” he answered. “This is only sold here in Paris.”

“Really? Oh my god.” I gasped.

“I see that you are a patron of the brand,” he said referring to the classic black Chanel flap bag I had with me.

“I am a devotee,” I raved with pride.

I recalled the time I was invited to the second Chanel show in Seoul and the one in Tokyo. I nearly died out of excitement when Mr. Karl Lagerfeld, the great genius that led the brand today, knew and said my name.

It was the ultimate fangirl moment for me.

I had our photo framed in my apartment.

He gestured to the purse. “Then this will definitely make a special addition to your collection.”

The man had a silver tongue. I was so convinced that I ended up pulling my credit card from my wallet.

It needed an exercise anyway, I thought.

"We will have it delivered to your hotel, Mademoiselle Myoui," the lady said.

And I had never felt happier. Thank you, Chanel.

I laughed to myself. The concierge may have been deluged with shopping bags by now.

When I stepped outside to the sunny Parisian day, I saw another thing that contributed to the bliss I was in.

No, it wasn’t the Saint Laurent boutique.

But the woman standing, waving at me, outside the Saint Laurent boutique.

“Momo!” I shouted.

She waited for the cars and the scooters to pass by before she crossed the street.

“Hey,” she said to me, kissing my cheek.

“Hey to you too.” My heart was flipping backwards inside my chest. “Where are