His tanned complexion of a magnificent old sea dog betrays a life of wandering. A long time ago, Greg Hessmann lived in South Africa where he worked for local production companies. In another era, the Marseillais held the reins of a women's clothing brand presented in Parisian trade shows. And then there are also all those years when he organized the best parties in the city, the famous Plaisir Collectif, when he took over abandoned harbors for one evening to flow his wine and play his music. Greg Hessmann ended up becoming a full-time manager: today he is at the head of the bar La Relève and the café l'Abbaye, two good restaurants perched on the heights of the Vieux Port, where good frankness is an elegance. It is on the terrace of the first place mentioned, between a thousand kisses and a thousand handshakes, that he details the history of his silhouette.
How did you initially learn about style?
I grew up outside Marseille, in the countryside. There, they didn't give a damn about fashion. When I was a kid, my parents, who were pretty traditional in their way, made me tuck my shirt into my pants. It was at school that I started to develop a kind of clothing culture. My high school was far from the city center, and everyone was all about streetwear. But one of my first shocks was when my sister brought me back from a trip to London some Doc Martens with aluminum plates on top. Suddenly, I realized that style could go in all directions, that there were other worlds to explore. Later, I started wearing leather coats, biker boots, and brightly colored jackets. I also hung out a lot around the famous Prado bowl and, naturally, skate fashion influenced me: at one time, I wore t-shirts with flames or skulls and I had high socks under my shorts. For me, it was a way of expressing myself. My clothes were a lifestyle.
Today, what matters most in your wardrobe?
Because I'm a surfer at heart, I often wear a t-shirt or a hoodie, and when it's cool, I put a jacket on over it. But at the same time, I don't neglect shirts. In a way, I'm the headliner of my restaurants. I have a service job, but also a representation job. So I have to pay a minimum amount of attention to my outfit. I wear my shirts close to the body. It matches my figure. Otherwise I feel like I don't look like much. The cut is a fundamental criterion for choosing your shirt. We see too many people in the street who float around in their shirts, or who wear them like a second skin that's much too tight. You have to be careful, though...
Your passion for surfing takes you to travel, to Southeast Asia or Central America. And each time you bring back clothes from these places…
I always feel like these are incredible pieces and when I wear them in Marseille, I get “tracked” imtely. My friends make fun of me, they tease me, like when I showed up with this long sky blue jacket that came down to my knees. In Marseille, we love to make fun of unusual looks. But I stand my ground. At the same time, trying to stand out is also something very Marseilles. We are rebellious. We don’t want to be like the others. At a party where everyone will be wearing shirts, we won’t hesitate to come in a t-shirt just for the pleasure of attracting attention.
"We are rebels. At a party where everyone will be wearing shirts, we won't hesitate to come in t-shirts just for the pleasure of attracting attention."
Can you make a typology of the looks that parade behind your bar?
It's simple: you imtely notice the Parisian. He's a guy who's on the cutting edge of things, whose hem has a perfect seam and proportions, with shoes that are necessarily those that have been presented very recently on the trendy sites. The Marseillais, on the other hand, pays less attention to his style on a daily basis. He can try something, but not every day. That would be too much. Among my Marseille clients, there are still some with some great looks. There are the rockers from Cour Julien, with their rolled-up pants, their short denim jackets, and their leather shoes. There are also a few old Marseillais from the working class. Old handsome guys who live near the sea, and who take care of their looks even if they don't have much taste, with a nice tan, their hair pulled back, their shirt collars open and a bracelet on their wrist. Let's be reassured, these guys are not an endangered species.
Have you ever considered having the people who provide your service wear a uniform?
For a while, I imagined that my waiters and waitresses would be recognizable, yes. It was not a question of making them wear a white shirt and black pants, but rather a colored polo shirt and an apron. But with the success of the restaurants, I very quickly abandoned this idea. I want my customers to be able to imagine that those who serve them are like their friends. La Relève and L'Abbaye are bars for friends.
Sauce or coffee, do you often stain yourself during work?
I am a great professional: I never get stains. And if I do, it can possibly be a good excuse to get topless in front of customers. One thing, too: if I do get a stain, the salt trick doesn't work. It's a myth, forget it!