French Hat

French Hat
French Hat
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The French hat designer Benoit FOUCHER was born in Saint-Germain-on-Le and discovered a passion for drawing and painting from an early age.

Between 1997 and 2000, he studied design and modeling at one of the most prestigious schools in Paris - Chardon Savard. This is how his passion for fashion begins, and for two years, he has been making unique items in a single copy for the Simon Gallery.

This gives rise to the creation of our own brand of high-quality headwear. His creations are immediately available in high-profile stores in Paris such as Marie-Louise, Frank and Brothers and Onward, as well as in Japan at Baycrew.

2005 becomes a decisive year, he was appointed professor at the Mod'art International School. But the designer does not stop there and writes articles for la-couture.com.

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In July 2011, he collaborated with Julien Fournié for the accessories of the F / W 2011/12 haute couture fashion show.

2014 - the return of the Benoit FOUCHER brand with the A / W 2014-15 collection presented at the New Deal in Paris.

For the Spring / Summer 2015 season, the designer offers a new collection of delicately hand-woven fine straws, whose sandy shades are like an invitation to travel.

There is an amazing duality in Benoit Fouche's products. The hat strongly emphasizes the spirit of the brand, and the designer has redefined the traditional shapes as we know them for us.

Each handmade model is produced in a small series and is numbered. Traditionally, the hats are formed on wooden molds. All from noble materials. As for the finishing, they are made of leather, with no visible seams, quality "Made in France".

The sea invaded everything and with it, how terrible it is, memories reappeared as before death, smashing the facades of the destroyed palace.

In the twilight of this life, a woman and a man walked through a deserted city. In their footsteps, the rumble of lost carelessness.

They wander in the shade of the sun, summer is a good start for love. Unnamed, without attachment, brazenly beautiful, like criminals, they return to where the drama of happiness begins.

They are twenty, fifty, a thousand years old, the ghosts of their passions, leave behind the city, falling apart in the mysterious smell of poisonous spirits.

And then the sea went, far beyond the horizon.

For twenty-four hours, hiding from the horror of the flood, they recreate, from scraps, hats, to the rhythm of their distant surging love.

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