Article by (British Expat and Makeup Artist) Charles Gillman

It was Fall/Winter 2015/16 men’s fashion week in Paris. Despite the fact that fashion was something I never seemed to struggle with in Paris, the men was something that I wasn’t managing to master after four years in the city of lights. Fair enough I had tailored my wild Londoner ways to the Parisian chic and ditched the floral shoes that I used to wear running around the east end on a Saturday night, and the chunky chains with heavy eye makeup that I would take out for a spin in the west end. I’d managed that, and my now-wardrobe consisted of grey and black and level-headed bits and pieces that made one still look chic, without welcoming any unwanted looks of dismay in the metro, ‘colour! Who does he think he is’

It was a Saturday afternoon and whilst I was mourning the end of yet another male misunderstanding, I realised I should check the time for my invitation to the Monsieur Lacenaire show. The invitation said four o’clock and it was……… four o’clock! Oh my lord, I could have sworn it was at five as I had written it in my diary. I threw on some kind of outfit that resembled a mime (without the beret) and Paris marathoned myself to the closest metro station.

As I soared into the picturesque Parisian théâtre, the room was teeming with people and there was no way of getting to the front, the models we’re carrying out the show in the style of the good old game you used to play as a child, ‘musical chairs’, and with that, one model got the last seat.

Applause from the audience, that was it, that was just it when it came to my life in Paris, I could throw on an outfit and win every time, but when it came to dating, after eight weeks, somebody else took my place, and was living my catwalk of happiness and feelings of excitement with the person that I thought was designing my next season, whilst I was left to stack away the chairs, sweep the floors and get back to life as normal. I could just never win a seat in somebody’s heart.

Corks popped from champagne bottles and the models stuck around for some photos, so thankfully I managed to take a look of everything. The style was very casual, chunky knitwear with patterns and wait for it… Color! Keeping in with the hipster age of things with a vintage style, I actually really liked it. What I really loved were the trousers, I’ve been looking for something very fitted yet pleated for a long time, they were half length paired up with thick woolen knee length socks, I think it’s a look that I could try and pull off for the next Fall.

I’d just come back from a weekend in Berlin, and the style really reminded me of how people were dressed there too. Bit of Berlin in Paris, why not?