Celine Dion wears Titanic necklace, makes waves
Singer and nautical legend Celine Dion sent shockwaves through a very narrow slice of the internet sea on Wednesday by having her photo snapped while wearing the only thing more treasured than her discography: a costume replica of the Heart of the Ocean, the obscenely opulent and narratively pivotal necklace from 1997’s Titanic.
For the walking red-flags who have never seen the film, the Heart of the Ocean is a trendy blue-diamond necklace that caused the social strata of 1912 to squeeze out diamonds of their own when it landed in the hands of ambivalent debutante Rose DeWitt Bukater, who anticlimactically tossed it into the ocean at the end of Titanic (which, in the interest of continued overexplanation, is a film that came out in 1997 on the same day as Mouse Hunt and tells the story of an artist’s free vacation gone awry).
Celine — because it feels inappropriate to refer to her hereafter as Dion — stepped out wearing the piece during Paris Fashion Week after the necklace made a journey down the runway at a Vetements show in June. Though the jewelry was but a part of her overall ensemble (that, for those counting, reads half Working Girl and half Hollywood souvenir shop), Celine might as well be wearing this — wearing only this — for how giddily happy the look stands to make any Titanic fan.
The thing is, Celine has always proclaimed her enduring steamship standom to the world. Beyond “My Heart Will Go On” being the signature gay-gasp production number of her Vegas residency, Celine has sported couture that honors the 1997 movie with elan. At the 1998 Oscars, Dion rocked a 171-carat Heart of the Ocean replica for her performance of the ballad, and as recently as 2016, she wore this baggy Jack and Rose hoodie, another Vetements piece (with a price tag of $885) that was so stylishly oversized it almost certainly would have needed to be sent to steerage.
All eyes, then, are on chic Celine as she plots her next well-tailored Titanic tribute. A sliver of wooden door fashioned into a bangle? A satin blazer with a foggy handprint emblazoned on the shoulder? This hat!?!? The possibilities, like Jack Dawson’s career potential up until around March of 1912, are endless.