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“I like your hat,” I said. “It’s a beret,” he said, “…from France.” And I must admit I have never seen such a beautiful beret nor one worn so well as on this gentleman. He was arresting in his simplicity – the black jacket, black trousers, polished black shoes, white shirt, and of course, the piece de resistance, zee beret. I don’t usually do B&W of my subjects, but I just couldn’t help myself here; the aura of this man doesn’t need colour to shine. This photo takes me back to my days in Montmartre, where I lived on baguettes, wine, and amour… (ahem)