PARIS — When Matthieu Blazy unveiled his first collection for Chanel, a few of the most memorable looks came not from its own atelier but from that of its Place Vendôme neighbour, Charvet, which has been making immaculate shirting for nearly two centuries. The collaboration marked an unexpected appearance of the storied shirtmaker on the runway — a broad spotlight on a house better known for discretion than display.
Inside Charvet’s quiet salon, stacked with thousands of ties and silk squares stacked on Louis XV-style tables — saleswomen still see clients off with a soft “Merci, Monsieur,” in a timeless scene that embodies the art-of-living Charvet has perpetually refined since its founding in 1838.
It was the first shirtmaker to open a store at a time when this function was reserved for linen workers visiting clients at home. Charvet remains the oldest establishment on Place Vendôme, the sole and unique boutique of this family business spread over six floors.
In 1855, Charvet presented shirts at the Universal Exhibition. Nearly two centuries later, its work on Blazy’s debut confirmed its influence, which remains as discreet as it is legendary — the world’s biggest couture house colliding with the purveyor of a single store.
Associated with clients ranging from Charles Baudelaire and Marcel Proust (who evoked in “In Search of Lost Time” “the knot of a magnificent Charvet tie”) to Jean Cocteau, Romain Gary, Charles de Gaulle and François Mitterrand, it has continued to innovate, both technically and commercially, with several thousand new products presented each season, including design, fabrics and colours. It exported shirts to the United States from 1853 and called upon artists such as André Derain and Vlaminck for window displays, and Raoul Dufy for fabric designs.
Exactly sixty years ago, one of its suppliers, Denis Colban, took over the business. It has been managed since his death in 1994 by his two children, Anne-Marie and Jean-Claude Colban, faithful to the tradition that they renew through the profusion of proposals (more than 6,000 different fabrics, 500 shades of white…), a certain sense of exclusivity and a craft they celebrate as an art of living, in a legendary venue with the feeling of a club.
In an increasingly globalised world, how does Charvet remain strong?
We were fortunate to develop at a particular time, supported by a clientele characterised by wealth, talent and taste. Charvet used to have the same clients as Goyard or Cartier, like the Maharajah of Patiala, who was both very sumptuous and modern in his tastes.
But our clients have always formed a cultural elite, transcending the boundaries of money and power.
In his correspondence with the American painter Whistler, Robert de Montesquiou spoke of the “novelties” of the Charvet house. For us, novelty is not fashion. It is the fact of preparing specific developments for clients, unique products for unique clients who continue to inspire us, like this Turkish archivist who came to bring us letters between the last Ottoman sultan, Abdülhamid [II], and Charvet.
Our point of view is not that of a stylist or artistic director, but that of a house committed to surprising while maintaining trust. We don’t have any catalog. We are philatelists, collectors. We buy, we renew, we respond to requests that come from everywhere. We are lucky to have talented and demanding clients. Some buy ties they don’t wear, others order blue shirts, the same ones, by the dozen, still others like to come and offer one to someone or a friend to introduce them. The clientele has become significantly younger over the past ten years. Whether it’s a Japanese client who encourages us to look at what reveals itself from a cuff down, or an American client who questions the suppleness of a collar, the fullness of a shirt, the feel of a zephyr or a batiste, we must remain creative. Every detail is important, whether you are left-handed or right-handed, whether you unbutton your shirt or not, whether you manage to create a twill that is extremely fine but not transparent.
Your latest innovation?
We just got our hands on a few bales of magnificent Indian cotton: A textile engineer managed to hybridise Egyptian cotton with Sea Island cotton from the West Indies. After discussions with a weaver, we spun it and produced about a hundred meters. It has a beautiful cast, and the fibre is long. We call it white gold.
Tell us about the three shirts made with Chanel.
They’re cotton, in poplin weaves, piqué or Panama. We started with fabrics that we developed. There were nearly twenty-four proposals in total to arrive at a colour. The way we mix three shades of threads, depending on how they intertwine, determines a particular relationship with the light.
What was the starting point?
Matthieu Blazy knew the house; he called us; it began as a meeting. The whole idea behind this collaboration was born, and remains, that of a conversation fuelled by shared sensibilities. Gabrielle Chanel herself wore men’s shirts and pyjamas, like those of her lover, Boy Capel. In 1929, Gabrielle Chanel, who had designed the costumes for “Apollon Musagète,” chose to belt the muses’ tunics with Charvet ties. It is this first masculine-feminine gesture that Matthieu Blazy reinterpreted, by calling on the house.
How does this partnership redefine the codes of “collaboration”?
It’s truly an exchange, in the humanist sense of the term. Everything happened with words, not mood boards. We looked, touched materials together and worked with clarity, enthusiasm, kindness and complicity from start to finish. Matthieu Blazy’s work is extremely sensitive; he doesn’t seek to duplicate, but to understand the essence of a brand, and that really touched us. He first delved into the archives, and we felt everything infused within him. He immediately thought of a story, constructed where there was no real information, and it’s in this void that he traces a path.
What’s beautiful is that our own clients have responded, feeling honoured and flattered. This collaboration doesn’t betray them; on the contrary, it highlights the expertise and shared history between two houses. If Matthieu Blazy hadn’t walked in the door, we wouldn’t have reconnected. This reflection on the history of art and fashion allows us to share something rare: a high standard that is achieved through artisanal refinement and remarkable innovation. Education, really.
Which other houses would be possible to have such a conversation with?
We’ve already worked with houses like Christian Louboutin, who was particularly familiar with Charvet silks. We receive many proposals. The only collaborations that work are linked to a specific approach. There are two keys: the fact that the person or the fashion house has experience, or that something makes historical sense. Not to reproduce, but to shed new light.
Charvet has surely endured economic crises in its 200-year history.
The company employs 100 people, including 30 in Paris and 70 in the workshops located in the Indre region. The most difficult period was undoubtedly Covid, when customers called, and we took orders remotely.
The greatest challenge today is sourcing from suppliers who have disappeared or whose quality has declined. It’s a constant struggle. At the same time, the scarcity of supply reinforces Charvet as the benchmark company every day.
How do you reach younger generations?
The customer base is continually renewed, with orders coming in from clients in the tech sector, for example. It takes an hour and a half to take measurements and to choose the fabrics, and around six weeks for the delivery of a first made-to-order shirt. They are very sensitive to the idea of rediscovering through this experience a sense of time, an art of gesture, of know-how, of a human and artisanal relationship which has totally disappeared from their universe — and which reassures them.
