The brand with the two ‘C’ calls on us to dream, and in these troubled times, that might even be our ultimate means of escape. It’s just a shame that the escape in question takes place in ‘Loubou-slot’ heels in a setting that evokes a baroque nightmare that Marie-Antoinette on LSD would not disavow.

Here we are, plunging headfirst into the world of the tale that is not Monte Cristo. Mind you, not the one in which princesses find Prince Charming. No, here we’re talking about the one where the heroine gets lost in a forest haunted by expensive coins, populated by bimbos frozen in enigmatic poses around a black bow, and a giant ribbon that seems to be shouting: ‘Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to shake’ – a real BDSM story.

As Matthieu Blazy prepares to take over the reins of the company, the Studio is playing last of the class in terms of applied design, with an ultra-mastered collection. Too controlled, perhaps. By controlling everything, you end up with a wardrobe that makes you want to have fun at a gala dinner with Philippine, the Queen of the Suburbs.

The impeccable silhouettes flirt with the grandiose and the absurd, pearls so big they could almost be used as seats on the terrace of the Dior café. And because you can never have too many useless gadgets, Chanel has created a mini-bag version of the pearl, capable of holding just one credit card.

The House of Wertheimer promised us a British dream, but only if you had the bank account to match. And for us beggars, there’s always the low-cost version of the fairytale of ‘fait’: a metro ticket, a Spotify ‘Parisian Chic’ playlist and dinner at Kebab to the Faubourg; but in St Denis.

FM