For the past few weeks, I’ve been rushing about continental Europe attending the first flush of fashion weeks. First, I got the Eurostar to Paris for men’s, before flying to Copenhagen for the 20th Anniversary of CPHFW. When people asked me what I was doing, I replied: “Oh you know, schmoozing.”
My response is a little joke, because I occupy a grey area in the industry, nestled amongst the Venn diagram of traditional fashion week attendees, who can be categorized as follows:
Models: The ones who wear the clothes.
Buyers: The ones who buy the clothes and put them in their stores.
Media + Influencers: The ones who create buzz around the clothes, so that the rest of us can see them on our feeds.
As for me, I used to walk shows, but I’m pretty much retired now. I’ve never been a buyer, but I have worked for three of London’s major retailers, and now consult for various brands. I also used to write for magazines, but my main journalistic output these days is my podcast and this newsletter. As for influencing, apparently I’m deemed a ‘micro influencer’ according to industry terminology?
So you see: not a girl, not yet a model/ buyer/ journalist/ influencer. Instead, a little bit of each - an old hand in a brave new world.
The week I was in Paris was ostensibly men’s fashion week, but it’s actually one where lots of showrooms and PR agencies (mens, womens, and a lot of sportswear brands, I noticed) set up shop in the city, taking advantage of the fact that buyers and media are in town for the shows. If you’re in fashion, it makes sense to stop by; a chance to kill many birds with one stone - discover brands, do meetings, smell the vibe. In essence, the all important schmooze.
The energy is also more relaxed than women’s fashion week in February/ March, where it feels more like a manic smash and grab, with all the celebrities flying into town and brands staging their most extravagant stunts.
I arrived bleary-eyed on the 7am Eurostar, before heading to meet Hugo Hoppmann, who runs PRESENT. His whole ethos is around encouraging you to just do/ make the thing. I recommend his newsletter for a hit of enlightenment that always seems to arrive at exactly the right time.
Then I went to the 20th to meet Lithuanian filmmaker Rasa J. I had weird recollections of this area - I lived there with an agent during a particularly fallow period of my modelling career, not a healthy or happy arrangement. It was nice to create some new memories!
In the evening, I headed to the Très Bien pop-up (Très Bien is a chic Swedish menswear store). I spotted a calendar by one of my favourite photographers, Zoe Natale Mannella (see: the butt below) which reminded me that the calendar trend is still going strong.
The next day I visited the Veilance showroom, tucked away like a pocket of pure peace in a courtyard of the Marais, row upon row of simple, technical pieces executed in icy pantones. The only embellishment was a sweeping floral sculpture by Studio Lilo, featuring indigo fronds dripping from the walls. The whole experience made me realise how much more interested I am in smaller brands doing something careful and specific - a newsletter for another day.
One of the funny things about schmoozeathons is that you find yourself subsisting on an exclusively liquid diet - the day is blocked out with coffees, teas and matchas at appointments, and then at about 5pm you swap to wine and beers, leaving you practically afloat (and starving) by the end of the day.
That evening I met friends for (more) drinks (still no food), then headed to DSM Paris for a tiramisu tasting hosted by Apartamento and Danish chef Frederik Bille Brahe (brother of jewellery designer Sophie Bille Brahe). Unfortunately by the time we arrived, the gigantic tiramisu was gone! You schmooze, you lose…
The following morning, I met W David Marx for a coffee. You might remember him as the author of ‘Ametora’, which I wrote about last year. I’d recently finished his new book, ‘Blank Space: A Cultural History of the 21st Century’, and had lots of questions about how one goes about fitting the past 25 years into 300 pages. It’s fascinating, nostalgic ride - I highly recommend.
Whenever I’m in Paris, I always allocate a window of time to visit my favourite gallery, MEP. This time, I saw two exquisite exhibitions by a pair of American photographers, past and present: Edward Weston and Tyler Mitchell. I was chuckling at the Edward Weston captions - every few years he seemed to have acquired a new ‘muse’ who’d appear nude in his pictures. These artist dudes…
For lunch I met a friend from NYC who’s opened a luncheonette-style cafe called DAYS, where they serve delicious New York-worthy bagels.
Afterwards, I biked over to the Sanderlak showroom, hosted by New York-based communications agency Gia Kuan Consulting. Although I mostly dress like a vampire, I loved designer Sander Lak’s use of colour at Sies Marjan, the New York label he designed before its closure in 2020. His new label has the same spirit:
Interestingly, he told me that he can’t have too much colour around him in his home, as its effect on him is too profound; he becomes overstimulated by it. I’m the opposite: I dress in mostly monochrome, but my home is very vibrant.
Speaking of which - of course I made time for some vintage shopping, too. Here are some amazing vintage pieces I tried on but didn’t buy. Still thinking about the Ann Demeulemeester set on the left (if you DM me I’ll tell you where it’s from).
Then it was back to the tranquil Veilance showroom for an event. Clamouring into the main room with the other guests, we witnessed a performance by two brothers, Gaspar and Casper Clausen, who bathed the audience in sonorous music that left everyone feeling quite moved.
The following day was a disaster! A combination of hardcore procrastination and poor time management meant I completely miscalculated everything, missing all my appointments and a show. Had I schmoozed too close to the sun?
I rallied with an almond croissant and vowed to have a more successful evening - first I hit up a HOKA event organised by Lola Clabots, where I also ran into Brazilian filmmaker Limitrofe Television, who I had worked with on a project during the pandemic. Feels like 100 years ago. I drank a delicious peach juice from a slim, elegant glass, which was so unctuous and thick, it almost passed as a snack. Praise be!
Then it was time for actual food at Aux Deux Amies, a restaurant that’s as tightly packed as it is delicious. Performing my finest act of human origami, I folded myself into a seat next to the founder of Charms ice cream. With a keen eye, he pointed out the restaurant’s small-but-mighty gelato maker, perched on a counter amongst the chaos.
My final stop on the Gallic schmooze train was Espace Niemeyer - the headquarters of the French communist party, and an incredible building with a sweeping, flat facade and a sort of pregnant white hump rising from its concrete patio. That evening, it played host to an adidas Stan Smith party, the undulating green carpet and vaulted white ceiling providing a clever aesthetic mirror for the distinctive green and white of the shoe.
Speaking of the ceiling, when you gaze up at it, it gives the illusion of being covered in tiny white playing cards - further research revealed that these are in fact “thousands of suspended, thin, anodized aluminium blades” which act as acoustic sound traps and light diffusers. My photos didn’t do it justice, so here are a few I pulled from the Espace Niemeyer website:
I promised myself I’d be home at midnight, to get some sleep before my early train. So, of course, I ended up in bed at 2.30am.
Next time: Schmoozing in Copenhagen!
Don’t forget to catch up on the Threads of Conversation podcast! Last week’s guest was fashion journalist and Shop Rat writer Emilia Petrarca, who talked about loving Prada and hating flaccid totes.
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