And the same thing could be said for most editors, because menswear is just plain fun.

If Haute Couture week was a sugarcoated trip through an imaginary ball, then the first evening of Paris men's shows took us right into an imaginary lab where test tubes were bubbling.

The real test of a designer's skill is the ability to create fresh collections within a code that is so strict, and Friday saw two real winners.

Denis Simachëv, a 28 year old Russian who lives somewhere between St. Petersburg and Moscow, and signs his name upside down, had a lot to say.

His hard-hitting collection was a wonderful mix of engaging quilted textures, street-smart ballooning pants stuffed into combat boots, attractive black jackets encrusted with subtle decorations, and T-shirts sprayed with flowers.

Among the highlights from his collection was a fur lined parka seemingly built for Siberia.

The model's faces, obscured by either caps pulled down over the ears, or black ski masks, took us right out of the débutantes ball, and onto the real streets of a modern, insecure world.

Denis works in a funky mix of street-smart, a mélange of East meets West, and at times his style can grow a tad harsh.

Still, there is softness about his work too.

Nowhere could that be more evident than in a charming black satin suit strewn with red and pink flowers over the heart.

In an irony of modern life, Denis Simachëv is a product of modern Russia that opened her spirit to the world, while preserving the best of artisan traditions passed down from generation to generation.

He is obviously working on a shoestring budget, but managed to lace a good show together.

Next up, was a snowy blast from Montréal, when designer Philippe Dubuc blew into town like a winter storm.

His invitation had arrived in a test tube bottle some days earlier, an auspicious omen of things to come.

The runway was piled high with driven snow and highlighted with ice-blue lighting. To make it complete, a single waiter scurried about with frosty bottles of Moët et Chandon Brut Impérial Rosé.

To a soundtrack of howling wolves and blowing wind, the show unfolded.

Stylish suits were worn with collars turned up and accessorized with elbow-length arm warmer gloves, making for a look as fresh as the new fallen snow.

The collection was more hearty, than delicate, with a cut loose enough for a muscular lumberjack, though refined enough to wear out on the town.

Dubuc combined interesting plaid and stripe combos, and worked to perfection silver streaked fabrics in both coats and jackets.

High-necked peel-down turtleneck sweaters molded the torso, and half wrap-around, split, and micro thin belts looped under tails to ice the cake with delicious Maple syrup.

Philippe explained after the show, "The snow of Canada inspired this collection, and just look, I've brought it with me to Paris."

For all the snow and ice, the collection sizzled.

To round it off, two cargo pants, emblazoned with the Möet et Chandon logo, left no doubt as to whom the principal sponsor is.

Let's hope to see more from this creative designer soon, when hopefully, the champagne maker from Épernay will provide enough bubbly for everyone, and not just the press corps.

Meanwhile, across town in a concrete bunker next door to the Musée Picasso, there was no champagne for Stephen Schneider's show, but instead post-it signs on stark bleachers.

The décor had all the right ingredients to unveil a cutting-edge collection, but for background music, guests were provided with the live amplified sounds of an auto-dial randomly ringing various Paris numbers.

When harassing unsuspecting people with a call that is never completed sets the tone; you can pretty much imagine what was to follow.

Aside from one or two nicely cut blazers, an interesting stripped turtle neck sweater, and a jacket with an airbrushed design in plum and mint green, my reaction was the same as that of the people on the other end of the telephone line: hang up.