I’ve always been a little suspicious of people who can throw things away easily.
I keep clothes that no longer fit, objects that have lost their purpose, and things that belonged to people I don’t necessarily speak to anymore. Sometimes I think we’re not really keeping the objects themselves, but the versions of our lives that came with them.
Hugo Sire keeps things too. Including a jacket that belonged to his father, which he discovered in a wardrobe when he was still a student. Before SIRE, before the collections, before any of it. He already had the feeling that one day he’d do something with it.
Hugo is one half of SIRE, the menswear label he founded with Yojiro, whom he met at fashion school. We originally sat down for Last People There to talk about clothing, Japanese factories, Paris, Tokyo, and the peculiar pleasure of making something you wish existed.
But somewhere between Art Deco furniture, old jackets, and deciding whether it’s better to be perfectly dressed or slightly wrong, I started thinking about something else.
The things we choose to keep say an awful lot about us.
And that’s exactly the sort of thing I like collecting at Palomita Office.
THE BOY WHO DIDN’T SPEAK FRENCH
LPT: You met Yojiro in 2017, when you were both students?
H: I started fashion school not long after finishing high school. Yojiro had arrived in Paris a little earlier, and eventually decided to settle here and attend fashion school too. We met because we were in the same class. We were classmates.
LPT: Do you remember the first thing you noticed about him? Maybe his taste, his style, something that made you think you could eventually work together?
H: A certain discipline. I thought he was a good student, that he had interesting things to propose.
I also thought he was incredibly brave to come to a school in France where all the classes were taught in French, especially when he didn’t really speak the language.
I remember thinking that if he was already this good while working in a foreign language so different from his own, he must be pretty talented.
He was also a very nice guy.
After school, he went to Hermès.
And we didn’t exactly find each other again by coincidence. I was the one who called him.
That was several years after school. I told him it might be interesting for us to work together.
And that’s how it started.
A SMALL WARDROBE, NOT A FASHION EMPIRE
LPT: When you first started, was there something missing from your own wardrobe? A particular piece you wanted to make because you couldn’t find it anywhere?
H: I think there’s something a little nerdy about it. It’s being a geek about clothing rather than fashion, because I think those are two quite different things.
It’s about thinking, “I’d really like to own this particular piece,” and finding it amusing to make it yourself.
At the beginning, the idea was really to create a small wardrobe.
Today, we make around fifty pieces per season. It’s a small wardrobe, and that’s how I think of it, how we both think of it. I think that’s why the pieces work so well together.
FIFTY PIECES AND A THOUSAND REFERENCES
LPT: When you move from one collection to another, what guides you? Is it a mood, a story? What makes one collection different from the next?
H: Conceptually, Yojiro and I draw enormously from things we share. Memories, books we’ve read, films we’ve watched.
There are a lot of cultural references.
Paris inspires me enormously.
I grew up quite close to the Marais, which is, in a way, Paris’s fashion neighbourhood.
Our inspirations are extremely varied.
Even the trousers you’re wearing could become an inspiration.
MENSWEAR HAS RULES. DOES ANYONE CARE?
LPT: I wrote something down, but you might completely disagree with me. I feel like menswear is full of rules compared with womenswear. What do you think?
H: I love menswear precisely because it’s so simple.
Every season, we make shirts, sweaters, V-necks, coats, jackets...
There’s a relatively defined structure.
But I don’t think that structure limits my creativity as much as people might imagine. I actually like it.
But now that we’re stocked in different boutiques, we’ve noticed that when we make a navy-blue coat, it sells better than if we make the same coat in mustard yellow.
VENETIAN SLIPPERS AND THE SAINT-GERMAIN DANDY
LPT: What’s the most underrated piece in a man’s wardrobe?
H: Maybe slippers.
I think they’re quite beautiful.
LPT: Furlanes!
H: Exactly, furlanes. It’s only fairly recently that men have started wearing them.
LPT: I live in Saint-Germain, so maybe that’s why I see them everywhere. You see guys dressed like that just going out for a drink.
H: The Saint-Germain-des-Prés man never dresses quite like anyone else.
There’s always a kind of nonchalance.
And I think there’s a desire to be a little bit of a dandy, which isn’t necessarily the same in every Parisian neighbourhood.
And that’s a good thing. It’s nice that different neighbourhoods have their own identities.
But there’s a particular energy in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, that dandy spirit you might encounter at Castel, for example.
WE ALL WEAR A UNIFORM, EVEN WHEN WE PRETEND WE DON’T
LPT: I’m really interested in personal style.
Would you say you have a particular style, or do you like to experiment?
H: I don’t have one very specific style.
But I think, like everyone, we create a sort of uniform for ourselves.
Sometimes that uniform can be imposed on us, unfortunately.
But I tend to wear the same things quite regularly. More or less what I’m wearing today.
LPT: Do you have a uniform?
H: Yes.
I’m usually wearing jeans or pleated trousers.
I’m trying to wear more and more of our own brand because we finally have quite a complete wardrobe.
Otherwise, it’s usually a shirt, a tank top or a T-shirt underneath, and jeans, sometimes ripped, sometimes not.
A lot of vintage.
LPT: Did you make the holes yourself?
H: I think I probably wore this particular pair out until it ripped. Although they weren’t new to begin with.
And now we make denim too.
THE MAN WHO NEVER GOES HOME TO CHANGE
LPT: You mentioned the different customers who shop at SIRE, Hermès, and so on. In three words, who is the SIRE man?
H: I’m discovering more and more who he is.
And I should say the SIRE man or woman, because there are women who wear our clothes too. We shouldn’t forget them!
LPT: I love stealing men’s clothes.
H: I think a lot of women like that slightly oversized, boyfriend-jeans feeling, as if they’ve stolen something from their boyfriend or their father.
It works really well with women.
But I would say the SIRE man is relatively elegant, discreet, a little bit of a dandy.
It also depends on the occasion.
We’ve created a wardrobe with clothes that can be worn every day, for all sorts of occasions.
I like the idea of being elegant from morning until evening.
I’ve never really understood why people go home to change before going out.
I think it’s quite nice to be able to have a coffee at ten in the morning and go to an exhibition opening at seven in the evening wearing the same jacket and jeans.
LPT: I love that, but I’m absolutely not like that.
Sometimes it’s frustrating having to think about going home to change, but I never plan my outfits in advance either.
H: Maybe that’s also why I always wear the same things.
You just take whatever is at the top of the pile. I think that’s quite a human thing to do.
TOKYO, TECH PACKS, AND THE TROUBLE WITH MAKING THINGS
LPT: Production in Japan is central to SIRE, isn’t it?
H: It’s essential.
For several reasons.
We started in Japan because Yojiro is Japanese and already had a few contacts there.
Initially, we were just looking for fabrics.
Eventually, we found a workshop in Tokyo that became something like the centre of our production operations.
LPT: So it was Tokyo from the beginning?
H: From the very beginning.
We also struggled to find workshops in France.
France has undergone so much deindustrialisation that it’s quite difficult to find manufacturers willing to work with very young brands producing very small quantities.
And since we were already working in Japan, we thought it made more sense to centralise everything there rather than send packages all over the world.
There were only two of us managing the whole thing.
So we decided to keep everything together.
Today, I’d say around 99% of our production is in Japan.
And I hope we can continue doing that for as long as possible.
I think Made in Japan is also one of the reasons the brand works today.
It’s a real mark of quality in the industry.
And at the same time, I’d love to make things in France.
It’s not going to happen immediately, but I think it would be quite beautiful to have a brand based in Paris and Tokyo, producing exclusively in France and Japan.
It would make perfect sense with the story of the brand.
And for once, it wouldn’t be bullshit storytelling.
Maybe that’s the next step.
LPT: And I imagine it would make you happy as a Frenchman!
H: Absolutely.
I love visiting factories in Nagoya, Osaka, or little workshops in Tokyo.
But I’d be just as happy to visit a workshop in the middle of nowhere in Normandy, Brittany, Lyon or Calais.
It’s a beautiful way to discover a country.
Obviously, I know France reasonably well because I’m French, but you discover a country differently when you meet the people who make things there.
ART DECO, BAD DRAWINGS, GOOD CONVERSATIONS
LPT: Let’s move on to your cultural references.
Is there a reference that has absolutely nothing to do with fashion or clothing, but that somehow finds its way into your designs?
H: Yes and no.
It’s not necessarily something you’ll see directly in my clothing designs, but I think there’s a general aesthetic, a kind of atmosphere, that appears in other things I make, like furniture.
Because I design furniture too.
LPT: Yes, I’ve seen it! I love it.
H: We actually started the brand by designing the furniture for our showroom.
It was also a way of distinguishing ourselves a little from other brands.
LPT: I love design, but I can’t draw at all. I imagine it’s difficult to be a designer without being able to draw.
H: I’m far from being a brilliant illustrator, but I enjoy it.
I like making sketches.
And above all, I like conversations with people.
When your sketch isn’t particularly good, you have to use words to express your idea.
You have to explain it, go into details, make the other person understand what you’re imagining.
I really enjoy that exchange.
But to come back to your question, there are an enormous number of references I love.
One period speaks to me particularly strongly: Art Deco.
The late 1920s and early 1930s.
That period comes back quite often in the furniture we make.
There’s something about the lines, which are quite hard, quite masculine in a way.
Art Deco has straighter lines, a certain symmetry that I really like.
And I try to transpose that into clothing, into how we photograph the clothes, and into our furniture.
LPT: Do you handle the art direction of the photography too?
H: I do the creative direction, yes.
I do have a fairly precise idea of what I want for the brand.
Sometimes there’s furniture in the images, or particular shapes and references to certain periods.
I’d love to create a wardrobe that feels a little more historically rooted.
But it’s not always easy to make something that recalls the 1930s while still feeling modern, especially in menswear.
People don’t necessarily want to wear something that looks like fake vintage.
But maybe if we ever do a runway show, we could stage it in a theatre from the 1930s.
TWO JACKETS, TWO STORIES
LPT: If SIRE disappeared, and fifty years from now someone found just one piece from all your collections, which one would you want it to be?
H: It would be nice if it were the first one.
We started with a suit, a jacket and a pair of trousers that were sold separately.
I think I can show it to you.
This is the very first prototype of the brand. The first piece I received, from the very first DHL package I opened.
It’s quite precious to me.
It’s not necessarily the most beautiful piece we’ve ever made, or the most interesting, or the one made from the nicest fabric.
But it inevitably has sentimental value because it was the very first.
LPT: I had a slightly personal question, but it’s something that really interests me.
Is there anything in your wardrobe that you’ve kept even though you probably should have got rid of it?
Maybe something damaged, too old, something you don’t wear anymore, but you’ve kept for sentimental reasons?
H: I have a habit of keeping everything, so that’s a difficult question!
I have quite a few of my father’s clothes that I’ve kept because I think they’re really beautiful.
And also because I always tell myself they could be useful for a future collection.
This one, for example.
It’s a jacket that belonged to my father. Technically, it still belongs to him, but I’ve more or less stolen it.
We’ll probably rework it in one way or another.
And actually, it’s quite similar to the first piece I just showed you.
I was still at school when I found this jacket in a wardrobe and started wearing it.
It was probably already quite old, but I immediately thought, “One day, I’m going to do something with this piece.”
And I was still a student.
SIRE didn’t exist at all. Although maybe the idea was already somewhere in the back of my mind.
So yes, that’s exactly the sort of piece I keep.
Partly because I find it interesting as a garment, but also because of its sentimental value.
PARIS IS A VERY SMALL VILLAGE WITH TOO MANY SHOWROOMS
THE LAST PEOPLE ADDRESS BOOK
LPT: Where do you write down your ideas?
H: Usually on a corner of a table. (note to reader: Hugo said “sur un coin de table” and I thought he literally meant on the table).
I used to have all sorts of little notebooks, notepads, scraps of paper...
LPT: On a corner of a table? Like, directly onto the table?
H: No, no! It’s an expression!
I mean on a piece of paper, or a notepad.
LPT: I thought you literally had an ideas table, where you could write directly on the surface. That would actually be quite cool.
H: Why not? That could be an interesting piece of design.
LPT: Where might I run into you after work?
H: At L’Étincelle. It’s a bar not far from the office. I go there quite often.
LPT: Which Parisian arrondissement has the best-dressed people?
H: I’d say the 3rd.
Not always, obviously, but I think people make a certain effort there.
Even people who don’t live in the neighbourhood.
When they come to the Marais, they know they might run into someone, or maybe they simply feel like dressing a little differently for the occasion.
Sometimes you almost get the impression that people want to look fashionable because they’re spending their Sunday in the Marais.
It can result in some outfits that aren’t entirely convincing, but I still think it’s an area where you see interesting personal styles.
LPT: You mentioned growing up nearby. Did that influence you?
H: Enormously.
The entire neighbourhood transforms during Fashion Week.
All the art galleries suddenly become showrooms for a week.
It’s almost like watching a caterpillar turn into a butterfly.
You have these spaces sitting empty for weeks, which actually damages the life of the neighbourhood a little.
And then, suddenly, there are clothing racks everywhere, people drinking outside, block parties, four hundred people standing on the pavement...
There’s this extraordinary energy.
And because I grew up more or less around here, it always intrigued me.
WHERE TO BUY A GIFT WHEN YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE DOING
LPT: I need to buy someone a present.
I don’t know what to get them, and I don’t necessarily know the person very well. Where should I go?
H: I’ll keep it simple: Merci.
And it’s in the neighbourhood.
It’s close to the office, close to L’Étincelle.
So I can go to Merci, buy a present and then have a drink. Or the other way around.
LPT: A shop you can’t walk into without buying something?
H: Since I started getting more interested in Japanese culture, there’s a place I’ve really fallen in love with: Ogata, in Paris.
It was opened by Mr Ogata several years ago.
I actually think that place was partly responsible for making me fall in love with Japanese culture while I was still in Paris, before I’d had the chance to visit Japan.
It’s almost like a temple dedicated to Japanese culture...
And whenever I go there, I’m incapable of leaving without buying something.
If I don’t have much money left in my account, I’ll leave with a pastry.
Otherwise, I buy ceramics.
I love that place.
SLIGHTLY WRONG IS BETTER THAN PERFECTLY DRESSED
RAPID FIRE
LPT: Paris or Tokyo?
H: Paris.
LPT: One person whose style you always notice?
H: Matteo Artuso, designer.
LPT: New or vintage?
H: Let’s say new. We make new clothes, after all!
LPT: One object you always have with you?
H: A pair of sunglasses. Or prescription glasses, sometimes.
LPT: What is the SIRE man doing at two in the morning?
H: Either he’s at home watching a film or the eighth episode of a series in a row...
Or he’s closing down one bar before going to another party.
LPT: I love that. A brand you wish you’d created?
H: There are quite a few.
But if we’re choosing from the biggest and the best... Giorgio Armani.
LPT: Makes sense. Day or night?
H: Night.
LPT: Perfectly dressed or slightly wrong?
H: Slightly wrong.
LPT: One fabric you’ll never get tired of?
H: Cashmere. A wool-cashmere cloth.
LPT: Now, five words. One word for Paris?
H: Light.
LPT: One word for Tokyo?
H: Effervescence.
LPT: One word for Hugo?
H: Focus.
LPT: One word for me?
H: Successful.
LPT: Thank you! And your favourite word?
H: I like ribambelle.
LPT: What does that mean?
H: It’s a collection, an accumulation of things.
For example, une ribambelle de gens. It means there are loads of people in a room.
LPT: Okay. I think we’re good.
You can discover SIRE’s collection (gorgeous!) HERE and follow along on Instagram here.
LAST PEOPLE THERE is an independent editorial project exploring art, fashion, design, architecture, and the people behind things. A collection of conversations, observations, objects, and places. We go to vernissages and notice the wrong things.