Fashion month is like a long and tiring game of the last man standing. The most recent menswear season travelled through hundreds of shows in London, Milan, and Paris, and came to a climax at couture week. There, a trimmed-down cohort of fashion editors rubs shoulders with celebrities and the 1 per cent, who are flown in by brands in the hope that they’ll be inspired to drop hundreds of thousands on a single look. Though it’s a little less manic than the bus-club-another-club RTW schedule, the street style is just as – if not more – attention-grabbing. The convergent forces of money and time do help when it comes to getting dressed, like all the die-hard Chanel heads in their tweed sets, or the gloom of scene-kid-scions that swarmed the Balenciaga venue, protected from the public with industrial barriers. “I was shooting through a tiny crack in the fence at Balenciaga lol,” as Jamie-Maree Shipton, one of our roving photographers, said.