PARIS — As it does with most other labels, the fashion industry runs hot and cold on Chanel. At times the French house has been perceived as the singular brand driving the global fashion dialogue, the only one that could sum up the seasonal trends in a way that made sense in commercial terms while ceding nothing in the way of fantasy. On other occasions, however, the only real attraction Chanel has had to industry insiders has been its especially deep advertising pockets. The privately held company has an awful lot to hawk — from fancy cocktail dresses to pricey lipsticks that close — as a Chanel executive once said — with the reassuring click of a Mercedes door.

But unlike most labels that are based here in the world’s fashion capital, Chanel has never gone out of favor with the public. It holds a rare place in popular culture. Chanel resonates even with those who have little interest in boucle jackets with fine gold chains sewn into the hem.

For evidence of the broader fascination with the name, look to the constant stream of films, books and exhibitions about Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel — some of them sponsored by the brand itself — that rarely ever ebbs.

Shirley MacLaine was an Emmy nominee in 2009 for her role as the elder Chanel in the previous year’s TV biopic. MacLaine’s nomination was not hindered by the fact that she played the French designer with what sounded like a cross between a British and a Malibu accent. Few, it seems, can resist Coco.

In 2003 the literary world published “Coco and Igor,” which has been made into a movie, “Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky,” to be released in 2009. But beating it to the big screen is “Coco Before Chanel,” starring Audrey Tautou, which looks at the designer’s life before she found her metier and rose to prominence.

It’s understandable that ordinary folks would be intrigued by Chanel and why professional storytellers would find her biography particularly interesting. She began her life as a wholly unextraordinary girl. She was orphaned as a child. She was a cabaret singer. Throughout her early adult life, she fought a class-oriented society that saw her as undesirable. And she received the seed money for what would eventually become an empire of haute couture, ready-to-wear, cosmetics and one of the most successful fragrances of all time, from her married lover. Chanel was a street-smart and entrepreneurial other-woman.

In short, Chanel — the person and by default the brand — epitomizes the familiar and tantalizing story of transformation. Aristocrats began to emulate the woman they had once shunned. And in this fairy tale — as in all of them — there is a magical talisman. In this case, it was the little black dress. The tale of Chanel captures the essence of what fuels the fashion industry as a whole: the idea that a single garment, the perfect lipstick, just the right pair of shoes, can change everything. Fashion can make a woman anew.

Of course, during his quarter-century of leadership, designer Karl Lagerfeld has been instrumental in keeping the mythology of Chanel alive and vibrant from one generation to the next. If there has been one ubiquitous handbag seen dangling from the shoulders of women here — young and old — it has been the signature Chanel quilted handbag, in all sizes and in colors ranging from sober navy to vibrant fuchsia.

In the spring 2010 collection Lagerfeld showed Tuesday morning, he made clear — to any remaining doubters — why Chanel continues to dazzle. Against a stage set that included a rustic wooden barn, a two-story-high haystack and faux fields of scruffy grass, models walked in cream-colored suits frothy with ruffles and lace. His bell-shaped skirts stood away from the hips and his bodices hugged the waist.

It was a collection that was aiming to be nothing more than pretty — very expensively pretty. But Lagerfeld is a showman and so there were surprises on his runway as well. In a sort of sideshow romp, a lone male gigolo with a thick mane of dark hair served as a foil to a boyish-looking female model and her girly gal pal, until all three ended up getting cozy in a mound of hay.

Adding to the boisterous atmosphere onstage was a party gazebo that rose from beneath the set to reveal Lily Allen performing along with two models serving as backup singers.

It was no wonder that the musician Prince sat front row at Chanel, adding to the intrigue of which shows attract which celebrities. For the ones who have no particular connection to a fashion house — no advertising deal, no red-carpet loyalty — they are fashion tourists just like a regular Joe or Jane. Which show would just-folks go see in Paris if they could get front-row seats at any of them?

They probably wouldn’t choose one of the more avant-garde collections or even a critically acclaimed upstart. They would most likely be disappointed by a small showroom presentation. Ideally, they’d want something quintessentially French. And Chanel represents what fashion means in this city. It is about history and tradition. It stands for both grandeur and discretion.

Only Chanel can live up to the mythology that surrounds French fashion. And only Chanel satisfies both the culture’s dream of what French fashion is supposed to be and what fashion, in general, can do.