JACQUEMUS X HERR OBER

In partnership with

JACQUEMUS & HERR OBER

invited a small group of founders, creatives, entrepreneurs and friends for a private cocktail on Avenue Montaigne.

First things first: everyone was on time. In Paris. During Couture Week. I know.

They also looked exactly how you hope people in Paris will look in July. Summer dresses, colour, great shoes, nothing too considered. It was Couture Week and yet nobody looked like they had tried too hard. Which, I suppose, is the whole point.

The doors opened at 7pm and people actually arrived at 7pm. Some even earlier. We were impressed. Slightly concerned, but mostly impressed.

There was champagne, of course. And watermelon sitting in water, looking strangely perfect and making everyone wonder whether they had been serving watermelon incorrectly their entire lives.

Even the waiters looked like models. Maybe they were. Nobody asked.

The room filled quickly. Founders, creatives, fashion people, people who had flown in, people who lived five minutes away. Some knew each other. Most did not. That changed quite fast.

What struck me most was how little anyone seemed interested in collecting contacts. Nobody was looking over someone else's shoulder to see who else had walked in. Nobody was rushing from one conversation to the next. People stayed where they were because they genuinely wanted to hear the rest of the story.

Outside, Couture Week was happening. Inside, it felt less like an event and more like someone had opened the doors to their home and invited an unusually interesting group of people over for champagne.

That is probably what has always made JACQUEMUS different. Behind the collections is a brand that still feels deeply personal. Curious rather than corporate. Confident enough not to explain everything. Last night felt remarkably similar.

At some point I realised that almost nobody was on their phone. People were actually talking. Not networking. Talking.

Then, just when everyone thought the evening was winding down, ice cream appeared. Custom-made for the night, served with olive oil in perfect little silver cups.

Honestly, ice cream with olive oil in a silver cup is not a bad way to end a night in Paris.

We often say people remember how a place made them feel. The same is true for brands. Long after the champagne, the conversations and even the olive oil ice cream, what people carried home was not a photograph or a gift. It was the feeling of having spent an evening with people they genuinely wanted to keep talking to.

That is surprisingly rare. Perhaps that is the real luxury.

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