Upstairs at Lanvin

I had never set foot in the Lanvin Hommes store in Paris until last week. But I was on my way  back from a meeting near Rue Saint Honoré and feeling curious, so I dropped in. I was the classic disinterested customer: "Just looking."

Until I met Monsieur Maurice.

He is a small, pear-shaped man in perhaps his early fifties, with frazzled silver hair and smart steel-rimmed spectacles. He looks somewhat ill at ease and flustered in his slim-cut Lanvin suit and narrow tie. He approached me cautiously and hovered on my perimeter, keen to help but anxious not to impose.

"Everything looks wonderful," I said, truthfully, admiring the nonchalantly crumpled raincoats and sleek yet casual jackets. The label's designer, Lucas Ossendrijver, is generally considered to be a menswear visionary.

That was when Monsieur Maurice pounced. Before I knew it, he had a slender dark blue suit jacket on my back. Apart from the typically overlong sleeves (as far as I am concerned, most off-the-peg jackets are cut for primates), it fit beautifully. I looked trim and elegant.

"I knew it was your shape," said Monsieur Maurice, his eyes shining slightly.

Then I uttered the fateful words: "Actually, I am getting married in May."

I don't remember the journey up to the third floor, the tailoring department of Lanvin. All I know is that I found myself on a black leather sofa, sipping espresso and looking through swatches of material. Together, we picked out a Prince of Wales check. I wanted a three piece suit: I was quite insistent on that. Monsieur Maurice looked delighted.

The following day - a Saturday morning - I returned to the third floor to be measured for my suit. Monsieur Maurice was waiting for me, along with another silver haired gentleman. The floor, which is quite large and spacious, was more bustling this time. A woman who sometimes models for Jean-Paul Gaultier was there, said one of the younger staff. And also a soccer player.

I told Monsieur Maurice I didn't recognize either of them. He smiled understandingly. And for the first time I detected a faint tension between the older men who work upstairs at Lanvin and the younger, more excitable types who work on the fashionable second and ground floors.

Monsieur Maurice's colleague measured me, talking knowledgeably about vents and padding (he debated the possibility of a double vent with Maurice, who pushed for single and eventually prevailed). He noted that my right shoulder was a tad lower than my left. Nobody is perfectly symmetrical, he reassured me - and the difference is so slight that only a tailor can detect it. Once he had approved my choice of a five button waistcoat, he was done. The suit would be ready in a few weeks, but for now I was free to go.

Except. Monsieur Maurice remembered that the boutique would shortly begin a special offer on made-to-measure shirts. Perhaps he could do something for me. He disappeared downstairs like a white rabbit down a hole.

When he returned, he smiled victoriously: I would get a free shirt with my suit. It was simply a case of measuring me again.

To give me an idea of the style he counselled, Monsieur Maurice let me try on a Lanvin shirt that was more or less my size.

Of course, the sleeves were too long.

Lanvin Hommes, 15 Faubourg Saint Honoré, 75001, Paris.
Photos courtesy Lanvin. See The Sartorialist for another interview with Lucas Ossendrijver.

Comments

[R.]

oh lanvin toujours lanvin!

[La Chat Noir]

Poor Monsieur Maurice - an old school gentlemen lost in a sea of modern salesmen.

[véronique]

En fait les hommes sont tous les mêmes (mon amri aurait pu écrire ce post), ce n'est finalement pas si difficile de vous contenter : du luxe, un service attentif et personnalisé, un petit cadeau et l'affaire est dans le sac.
Mais pourquoi nous compliquons-nous tant la vie avec les soldes, les avant-premières et les solderies ? pffft