Ben Cobb, editor, style savant, and now designer, is channeling his passion for the disco decade’s decadence into a bold new collaboration, redefining modern masculinity with a dash of vintage allure.
Picture this: Yves Saint Laurent, his silhouette as slender as the Gitane cigarette between his fingers, igniting the dance floor at Paris’s legendary Le Sept nightclub. Flanking him, his muses Betty Catroux and Loulou de la Falaise, their presence as intoxicating as his iconic Opium fragrance. Elsewhere, Jacques de Bascher—dandy, provocateur, and muse to both Saint Laurent and Karl Lagerfeld—cuts a devastating figure in an immaculate white three-piece suit, leaving hearts racing along the Côte d’Azur. Halston, clad in buttery leather, glides through Studio 54’s hedonistic haze, trailed by Mick, Bianca, and whispers of scandal. And then there’s Alain Delon, all feline grace and smoldering danger in Purple Noon, or Helmut Berger, the very embodiment of leonine magnetism, both on-screen and off.
This is the world of the Homme Fatale, a term Cobb wields with authority, and it’s the essence of his latest collection with Scandinavian powerhouse Tiger of Sweden. Think of it as a perfectly shaken martini: crisp, intoxicating, and effortlessly cool.
The 1970s: A Style Renaissance
“The ’70s were a watershed moment for men’s fashion—tailoring had structure, but it also moved,” Cobb explains. “It was masculine yet undeniably sexy, designed for dancing, for living.” As the former editor-in-chief of Another Man and Love magazine, Cobb knows a thing or two about style narratives. And at 51, he still looks like he’s stepped straight out of a Helmut Newton photograph—dark curls, razor-sharp cheekbones, and a wardrobe of strong-shouldered, narrow-hipped suits paired with flared trousers and Cuban heels.
His Tiger of Sweden capsule—a collaboration since 2022—embodies this ethos: fluid trousers with a sanguine drape, precision-cut tailoring, and silk shirts designed to slip open as the night deepens. “Seventies fashion borrows from earlier decadent eras—the 1920s and ’30s—that same fatalistic hedonism,” Cobb muses. Growing up in London, he found inspiration in vintage finds, rejecting the grunge of the ’90s for the refined loucheness of the previous decade.
Peacockery with Purpose
“The 1970s were about peacockery—but with sophistication,” Cobb notes. Unlike the freewheeling ’60s, this was an era of deliberate elegance, where men embraced drama without sacrificing polish. Fashion historians might cite Beau Brummell or Versailles’ dandies as earlier examples of masculine flamboyance, but for Cobb, the ’70s remain unmatched. “You could find these incredible second-hand pieces—jackets with sharp silhouettes, built to last—that felt alive,” he recalls.
This isn’t the dreary ’70s of power cuts and canned pies. “I’ve always preferred fantasy to realism,” Cobb quips, his trademark mustache curling into a smile. His vision is a welcome antidote to today’s normcore slump—an invitation to embrace danger, decadence, and a little drama.
The Ultimate Homme Fatale?
When pressed to name his archetype, Cobb doesn’t hesitate: “Helmut Berger.” The late Austrian actor—bisexual, brooding, and magnetically troubled—embodied the Homme Fatale’s duality: elegance laced with danger. “He was a man of disaster, but also incredible taste,” Cobb says.
So what’s the formula? A silk scarf tossed over a denim shirt, unbuttoned to here? A dash of roguish charm? Cobb grins. “Something like that. It’s about living deliciously.”
And with this collection, he’s ensuring that the ’70s’ most seductive secrets don’t stay buried in the past.