"Modern Anarchy (n.f.)
1. Individual or community of individuals made up of revolutionaries who take the lead in situations they consider unjust and / or unjustified. Their fight includes political, ethical and equality issues. "

Let yourself be carried away in a luxurious mansion in the center of the City of Light, as old and bitter as its owner, forced to make it a luxury guest house.


In this guest house, Mr Badwolf, the owner felt like a king, reigning over his subjects, in other words, his employees. Libidinous, miserly, lazy, all the other sins passed. His greed was only equal to his mistake of people. His only company was historical people in watermark.


In his residence, his subjects, excuse me, his devoted employees worked under his orders. At that time the team consisted of a gardener, a mechanic, a groom who looked after the animals for the well-being of his hated customers. In the kitchen a chef, a waiter and a personal butcher were engaged, because Badwolf was a lover of good meat and cold meat. Finally, the concierge was responsible for the proper maintenance of the building. Never emphasized, the house staff was often even belittled against the self-proclaimed superiority of greed personified.


Faced with the actions of their employer, the underlings have always kept in reserve a smile they came out on all occasions, regardless of the state of mind of their executioner.


But came the day too much. As he attacked his subordinates for the ninth time, he faced a revolt he had never imagined so far. What he had always considered as little people had become real demons in his eyes. Towards a pack of wolves gone mad he had no choice but to flee. Frightened, he tried to take refuge in his room at best, trying to escape his fortuitous creation.

In his race, desperately trying to cling to all that was possible, the vases flickered and broke. Fainting with a trot a few dozen meters, he finally managed to hold on to the handle of his quarters, opened the door, and paid the luxury of finally turning to see if he was pursued, which proved .

Without a run and noise, his attackers arrived. The nasty man had time to lock himself up before collapsing to the ground, screaming that he apologized for the atrocities he had been able to hold before, promising a pay raise or any other monetary means of finding an arrangement.

But on the opposite side, not a single sound was heard, except that of a key sliding in the cylinder of private quarters of the torturer director.


Running further with a most unsightly approach to his office, to reach his landline that he had never bothered to modernize he dialed somehow the number of emergencies keeping his eyes on the gimbal which turned a lot too slowly, before resigning to look at him, where stood six individuals ready for anything.

Almost reviving his life before his eyes, he closed his eyes as hard as he could. But it was not. A moment later, he opened his eyes, no one was present in his room. He did not immediately understand the change his executioners had made on him, until he noticed a plastic sound as he began to move. Indeed, he was no longer dressed in his three-piece suit, but in a garbage bag filled with his money, sowing like little Tom Thumb, his venerated notes on his way.


Since that day, no one has ever heard of the tyrannical owner or his former associates.


Once this story is asked, the search for forms and materials can begin. The very DNA of the collection is to relate the high-society clothes to the workmen's blue. This social class mix is ​​the starting point for what will be the presented collection.

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