Obviously, we’re all fantastically excited about the third season of Emily In Paris because of the plot. We can’t wait to see what happens in series three with Emily and the… Hot Chef? Hot Dude she met in French classes? Or the Hot Chef’s unfeasibly chic former (or is it current?) girlfriend (or is it fiancée?), who used to be Emily’s best friend in a deliciously compromising way?
Oh, who are we kidding? The plot’s grand, and so are the gags (the French equivalent of Dad jokes, ref. the inspired: “You ’ave not yet tasted ’is coq?” of season one); but we are, every last one of us, unashamedly in it primarily for the clothes, non?
The clothes of Emily In Paris, though! The clothes! The wild, preposterous, desperately impractical and perpetually overstated! The unthinkable pattern clashes! The sequins for day! The heels so high, hems so short, and the neon bodysuits with cutouts so risqué they take your breath away. It makes us boggle and gasp and actually mutter out loud: “They can’t do that… Can they?” a mere two or three seconds before we start wondering if we could pull off something similar ourselves.
Each season of Emily In Paris is nothing short of 10 episodes of solid, uninterrupted style inspiration. And if, in this, it reminds us of the impact Sex and the City had on our wardrobes – of how that one show took our vibe, shook it up and turned it around so that our style was never the same again, then little wonder. Emily In Paris, like Sex and the City before it, is styled by Patricia Field, a woman celebrating nearly 25 years in the business of making us wear clothes we never thought we’d dare to wear, and having a fabulously good time in the process.
What’s at the heart of Emily In Paris’ fashion? It’s just so fun! No opportunity will be missed to make things a bit more jolly, lairy, larger than life, higher than Le Tour Eiffel or shinier than the stars reflected prettily in the puddles along the Champs Élysées on a stolen date night with an illicit lover. A yellow headscarf with a yellow peacoat, yellow heels and knee socks printed with sunflowers? Bien sûr! A swathe of pink feather trim on a red cloak? Mais oui! An epically oversized neon green double-breasted suit for the office? S’il te plait!
It’s a total subversion of clichéd French style. Traditionally, to “look French” is to look like you’ve hardly tried (even though you have). It’s like you threw on some quietly chic, muted monochrome pieces that morning while barely conscious (vin rouge hangover) and it just worked because that is how innately stylish you are, whereas, every inch of every outfit in Emily In Paris says “WE TRIED REALLY HARD, HERE, DO YOU LIKE IT? YOU BETTER LIKE IT!”
Which brings us back, inevitably, to the question of whether we really can pull off something like that ourselves – to which I say yes! Yes, we can!
We will require: Marni’s charming, fluffy multicoloured striped mohair-blend jumper – the over-the-top texture is very, very Emily, and its cosy chunkiness will contrast nicely against a pair of silver faux-crocodile trousers by Rotate Birger Christensen – both at Harvey Nichols, and (if we’re feeling more Emily) Valentino Garavani’s patent platform pumps, or (if we’re feeling more Mindy Chen, Emily’s flatmate) Louis Vuitton’s logo-detailed sneakers.
We will also require a neon suit featuring an oversized blazer and matching shorts (or ribbed cycling pants, a la Jacquemus). Or, if we’re looking for something marginally more understated – though we use that word strictly in the Emily In Paris sense, which is to say, actually not very understated at all – the adidas x Gucci fluid drill suit will do the trick.
Throw in a handful of stand-out separates to mix and match with existing elements in your wardrobe – Prada’s mesh and leather mini-skirt, for example, to combine with a basic white tee, or Dolce & Gabbana’s giraffe-print leggings and sports bra set, under a classic trench – and get into the habit of cinching everything you already own with an epic belt in the style of Sylvie, and voila! Tu as déchiré! (You’ve nailed it.)