Stop the clocks. Emily is on the cover of French Vogue. Yes, the Emily who blithely wears 14 colours in one outfit and always seems to have an Eiffel Tower sticking out of the side of her head. The one whom previous editors of French Vogue would have shrugged their shoulders over before moving on.
For the uninitiated – where have you been? – Emily in Paris is a deluded tale of Parisian life that makes all other fantasies about Paris look like cinéma vérité. The Eiffel Tower is never out of view.
It is a terrible show if you're someone who likes even the faintest soupçon of veracity in your drama, or a modicum of sharp observation in your comedy. Actual Parisians were reputedly incensed at this crass reduction of their Truffaut- and Buñuel-layered city. They were never going to like an American twit (played by the British-American actress Lily Collins) making yawny observations about their culture while dressed like a drunk Carrie Bradshaw.
But now, faire la une – French Vogue has gone and put Collins on its cover. Admittedly, in her conker-coloured leather trench, Miu Miu mini and camel vest, she looks more like a young Jane Birkin than the uprooted Chicago marketing executive that is Emily. But the cover? That's surely sacred space, reserved for semi-snarling French women gazing out on the rest of the world as French women have for aeons.
The gush emanating from French Vogue is even more shocking. "What we [also] love about Emily is her delightful way of reinventing Paris. An icon of new French joy, she is playful, assertive, colorful and freed from conventions."
What? There's so much to unpick here, from the conjoining of the words French and joy, to the adoption of American spelling. But the real sucker punch is that gerund. Not perverting. Not betraying. Re-inventing.
French Vogue, whose staff have for two decades shrouded themselves in skinny variations of black, is throwing in la serviette and prostrating itself before the big bucks and lurid emanations of Emily in a cynical attempt to pander to the international market.
But what if it's not cynical? What if French Vogue really does believe this? And what if they're right? What if Parisians were secretly flattered by all the attention and what if Emily, by getting French style, and all it stands for, so very wrong, has somehow come up with a far more relatable facsimile that will one day replace the real thing?
I had breakfast recently in London with the woman most ideally situated to answer this most profound of riddles. Thirty-eight-year-old Morgane Sézalory may not be as famous as Emily or Lily, but Sézane, the label she launched in 2013, has become the favourite cult French label of millions of shoppers across the world – including Emily herself.
Four years ago Sézane opened its first London outpost (the shops are called apartments, and feature parquet flooring and vintage furniture) in Notting Hill. This is a sophisticated area, yet there are queues to get in most days.
This is mainly because the clothes are good – stylish, timeless (the same chic cuts turn up season after season in new fabrics), well-made, sustainable in lovely vintage-y soft fabrics and offer palpable value for money.
There are short runs – you won't see the same Sézane piece everywhere as you would with a hit from Zara, even though it's notably more affordable than its compatriots, The Kooples, Maje and Sandro, with a sweet spot of under £170 for dresses. And it never goes on sale.
But the real hook is that, like Emily, Sézane (a portmanteau of her first and last names) offers a sunny, softly colourful approach to Parisian style. "Walk in a Londoner, Walk out a Parisian" is the benediction written on its shop window.
Lisa wears: Wool blend coat, £350; merino wool cardigan, £130; wool blend trousers, £130; suede bag, £300, and suede boots, £285, all Sézane. Gold-plated earrings, £110, by Alona
So what does Parisian style stand for in 2022? "In some important ways French style is definitely changing," Sézalory tells me. "Instagram and Netflix mean we all have access to the same influences at more or less the same time, so there's a standardisation. There's more colour now when you look around the streets of Paris."
Seventy per cent of Sézane's collections are in colour, something she sees being picked up by her competitors. "I think maybe I could say we're changing French style a little bit, like Emily," she says modestly.
"Women might come in looking for something black but then their heart gets taken with something orange or blue, or... just not black."
Today, Sézalory, whose Hungarian name comes from her father's side, while her dark eyes are from her North African grandparents, is head-to-toe in brown – sweater dress, matching tights – rather than the traditional uniform of skinny jeans and blazer. "I have breasts and wide shoulders," she says.
Shock. Horror. Her 300 staff come in all shapes and sizes too. "And we want to feel comfortable. I really think it feels wrong, in 2022, to make clothes for women that aren't comfortable."
Lisa wears: Organic cotton velvet jacket, £170, and trousers, £170; suede bag and suede boots, as before, all Sézane. Gold-plated and diamante earrings, £155, by Alona
Not by coincidence, Sézane offers more sizes than its competitors. More variety too. There are sequins this season, because while Sézalory says the favourite Parisian conceit is still the one about being too cool to make an effort, the modern Parisian does dress up for special occasions. "The main difference is she probably wears less make-up than women in other cities," says Sézalory.
At least half of Sézane's collections are repeat styles in new fabrications. Sézalory is carrying a four-year-old tan suede saddle bag called Roméo she uses night and day. It's very French to have a chic but utilitarian bag you can wear anywhere. I hope if the French really are being A Bit More Emily, they don't adopt her habit of never wearing the same thing twice.
If Sézalory is to be believed, that's unlikely. "French women spend less per visit than New Yorkers or Londoners," she says. "They get the basics right and just add a few pieces each season. Rather than trends, at Sézane we pay more attention to the tribes who shop with us – the bohemian, the minimalist, the preppy, the rock chick - and ensure there's something for all of them."
They've also perfected the foundations of a modern wardrobe – the wrap coat, the blazer that's roomy enough to wear over a sweater, the straight jeans, the perfect shirt, the flared trousers, the saddle bag – and these are the items customers always respond to. "Our customers have become a bit more French – less obsessed with newness for the sake of it, and more knowledgeable about quality".
Lisa wears: Wool blazer, £170; mohair blend cardigan, £95; organic cotton velvet trousers, suede bag and suede boots, as before, all Sézane. Gold-plated earrings, £110, by Alona
But what she really loves is the two-way conversation her fellow citizens are now having with the rest of the world. "There's more openness in Paris – we're still not as free in the way you dress in Britain," says Sézalory, who, since her older sister lives in Fulham, has plenty of opportunity to appraise British style.
"What I love best is when you see British and French style mixed up – like Charlotte Rampling, or Jane Birkin and her daughter Charlotte Gainsbourg." (The latter is a neighbour of Sézalory, so she gets to observe mother and daughter at close quarters).
"I think we're becoming a bit less rigid. It's not always about the blazer – although I love a good blazer." Parisians have, she says, embraced colourful knitwear, especially gauzy mohairs that create a fuzzy light around their faces. "We have one beautiful customer in her 80s who first came to us for our knitwear – a soft cardigan in a bright shade is a wonderful way for older women to refresh their look".
Having begun her career in vintage – first selling a suitcase of clothes her sister had left behind when she moved out, then graduating to designer names and beautifully made pieces from the hundreds of small dressmakers who accounted for so much of the fashion worn by our mothers and grandmothers – she's obsessed with quality.
She acquired a following, particularly among stylists. "I never went to fashion school – I learnt everything from studying the cut and construction of those old clothes," she says. "At Sézane, we spend so much time on the cut, quality – and sustainability."
The company is B-Corp certified, which means its supply chain and charitable interests must be transparent. "I really want people to wear our clothes their whole lives."
She keeps prices keen by selling directly to customers rather than through multi-brand retailers. She says her margins are lower than those of her rivals which is how she keeps prices down – next year Sézane will launch Editions, a slightly more luxurious range. But she never wants Sézane to become aloof.
She is noticeably more open and warm than many other fashionable Parisians and always makes a point of being friendly to Uber drivers and waiters. "I want my daughters to know that being kind doesn't make you a pushover," she says. Now there's a lesson for Parisians.
'There's more openness in Paris – we're still not as free in the way you dress in Britain'
Le chic has loosened up – cult French label Sézane offers a sunny, softly colourful approach to Parisian style