He lives in a garret apartment up six flights in an old Paris building, probably one that would be common place to a Parisian, but to us, the Americans, it made us giddy with excitement. That afternoon was uncommonly warm and humid, and in the sky it could plainly be seen the reason why. We got in and said hi, and barely caught our breath and started snapping away when the thunderstorm broke. But it was so beautiful to watch it pour outside while he played the scratchy 78 on the his rickety electric phonograph. How could a moment be more perfect?
This is the universe of Mickael Loir.
I could sense the spirit of Paris in him and his surroundings - the history of surrealism and dada, of artists and whimsy, and of elegance. He showed me his creations - ribbon bow ties, lapel pins, and cufflinks made from vintage watch faces. It might be surprising, then, to find out he has a rather normal day job. I asked him if he dresses the same at work - because although it is not offensive to be elegant, it can be distracting. He says that he slowly got them accustomed to it - a collar here, a bow tie there - so now he dresses as he pleases. Although his look is very vintage, it is a mix of old and new, high and low. And in a city in love with fashion, he prefers to cut labels out of his clothes. But he is quick to say that it's not just the clothes; it's also the universe that one creates - friends, art, a crazy awesome thoroughly impractical English car, a bit of green on the otherwise grey terrace - that bring style to the whole endeavor.
I was reminded of dadaist
Tristian Tzara
The vintage MG was just purchased and driven from UK to Paris a few days earlier, just in time for the rain...
