Monocle

Monocle Weekend
Edition: Saturday

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There was something fishy about this year’s Mipim convention…

There was something fishy about this year’s Mipim convention…

It has been a very soggy week in the south of France (I know, the hardships one has to endure). Usually attendees at Mipim, the world’s largest convention for the property market, can look forward to taking meetings on a sunny hotel terrace while having the year’s first glass (or jeroboam) of rosé. This edition, however, the sun had only a bit part to play on most days but the die-hards still huddled under restaurant awnings every evening and persevered with sunny drinks orders even if a glass of Glühwein might have been more apt. Hold on, isn’t that the Monocle team over there?The magazine has always reported from Mipim but this year we upped our game and, instead of roaming the stands in the Palais des Festivals, set up camp with our very own Monocle Radio booth, positioned between a lunch station and the Spanish delegation. And our base was cute: a white cube with a big window so that passersby could look in and see us in action. David, our engineer-cum-producer at these events, said that it looked a bit like a fishtank; I certainly felt that I’d gone a bit exhausted jellyfish by day five. But what a few days. My colleague Carlota was drafted in to moderate part of the opening day of talks at “Housing Matters!”, a conference that kicked off the week before Mipim proper began on Tuesday. Taking to the main stage in front of some 800 people, she totally nailed it. Luke and Rebecca from our publishing team speed-dated partners old and new. Fred, our photographer, captured every moment.One brief aside while we are doing team chat. Mipim has done a good job at bringing in a richer mix of attendees but there’s still a dominant property look that, for the men in the room, involves a navy suit, a puffy gilet, some loafers or perhaps a pair of double-monk strap shoes with, if you are being daring, the top buckle undone. And there’s no criticism implied here. How could there be when both Luke and I realised that we somehow have all the kit. Carlota said that my look was so in step that if I got lost in the mêlée it would be impossible to relocate me without bringing in a sniffer dog. There were, however, a few breakout looks. I liked the gentleman sporting a baseball cap that read “Lehman Brothers, Risk Management” and another who had “Real estate” tattooed on his hands.

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