}" rel="nofollow noopener">those Catherine Deneuve Chanel No. 5 commercials, Helmut Newton’s photographs from Nice in the ’80s, and Cary Grant in a neckerchief all swirling around. (Or maybe Aristotle Onassis, Tajer’s self-proclaimed icon: “He’s an elegant, very classic entrepreneur.”) His clothes purr like a vintage sports car ad: Do you like luxury? Do you like the cool feel of a butter leather interior under your handmade pants? The driver’s poodle looks at you and winks. “Casablanca,” says a man you just know smokes an expensive cigar every night. “Grace, space, place!”

The clothes are ostentatious, but craftily so. Tajer, who was an LVMH Prize finalist last year, employs two artists who are the brand’s full-time painters, creating swirling, wonderfully ridiculous late ’80s Versace-ish assemblages of dogs, women, and various concepts of paradise. His clothes look great with pearls, big loafers, and coiffed hair. They are the cinematic dream of the mischievous pleasures that come with life lived well. You could call his guy Bro Brummell.

Tajer’s spring collection was inspired by a sojourn to Hawaii, but he wanted to do something more aggressive for fall, so he focused on Monaco and the heyday of Formula One. Hitchcock’s To Catch a Thief made it in there, too, as did the sheer opulence of the jet-set splashing out at the principality’s famous casinos. Some of the collection’s strongest looks were those that are now firmly Casablanca signatures, like a Granny-in-Chanel pantsuit that fits a guy like a sweatsuit, and the blousy pants with loan-shark dagger-collar button-ups. His vivacious knits are must-haves, as well. This season he introduced a full womenswear offering, though he was already producing and selling pieces for Net-a-Porter, and women buy his men’s silk blouses and outerwear. It nearly outshone the men’s, if you can believe it.