Since his peculiar parting of ways with Brioni last October, Aussie renaissance man Justin O’Shea has, if not exactly gone dark, then kept himself under the radar. Today in Place Vendôme he sped straight back into fashion’s maw astride a 1970s BMW motorbike for the launch of a label he described as: “Like a third line of Tom Ford designed by Supreme.”

At 9:00 a.m. this morning O’Shea and his confederates hosted the first of three shows to be held today to launch SSS Corporation. The second was due at lunchtime outside L’Avenue. The third at cocktail o’clock at the Hemingway Bar. Three shows in one day? So is that what SSS stands for—Show Show Show? No, said, O’Shea, it was inspired by the SS Super Sport badge for ’60s Chevy muscle cars, with an extra S added for good measure.

“This is the coolest show ever,” said Etienne Russo, before things kicked off this morning: “It’s a full non-permit!” You could see why fashion’s master producer of grand-scale shows relished the DIY derring-do of O’Shea’s show strategy for this press- and retailer-only showcase. About 10 of us, invited under conditions of top secrecy, gathered in the square as curious fashion passers-by trooped into Comme Shirt. There were no seats, no door, no lights (just a couple of reflectors), and the music was Snoop’s “Gz And Hustlas” played from a battery-powered boom box on the cobblestones.

The street-cast models of skaters, boxers, and, “ratbags” walked up from the south side towards a ’70s Ford pickup in the middle and then turned towards The Ritz. There were 13 looks (13 more will be shown at show two, and five more at show three) which O’Shea said were the key pieces. Entitled “Aloha From Hell,” the collection featured Hawaiian-style silk shirts with hibiscus and marijuana prints (inserted at the advice of Snoop) or skull-headed hula girls. The sneakers were slightly raised adaptations of ’70s Converse with extra punched airholes. Pants were adapted from O’Shea’s own suit collection but recast in denim and a twill based on ’70s Wrangler workwear. Suits were broad-lapel, fitted, and presented in olive and burgundy; topcoats came in animal print. The jewelry was a mix of gold, silver, and mother-of-pearl by Paspaley.

That jewelry apart, most of these made-in-Turkey pieces, which have been produced in collaboration with 032c, are designed to be relatively affordable. Alongside Colette, the only retailer represented this morning was Selfridges, whose buying and merchandise director Sebastian Manes was among the small cluster that gathered around O’Shea once he’d taken that BMW ride after the last look walked.

“Talking to Seb,” said O’Shea, “it’s like where does this sit [in store]? And in theory I want it to sit with all the cooler young guys, my friends, like Virgil and stuff like that. But then people will see the tailoring and say, ‘Oh you can’t have that in there.’ But that’s the point. Guys don’t want to to go to Zegna, and they just want a cool jacket. Where are you going to go? Topshop? H&M? I want to be the bridge between the two.”

As one wag noted, the bridge between Zegna and H&M is a long, long, bridge. If anybody wants to cross it, the tailored pieces here certainly provided a route. The collection reminded me of the Beastie Boys’s “Sabotage” video, Lance Mountain, Jarvis Cocker (an O’Shea-cited inspiration), and, perhaps a little weirdly, Kramer from Seinfeld in his more expressive wardrobe moments. The only slight disappointment is that the French police—normally so assiduous in detecting any infringement—seemed entirely unflustered by SSS’s Spring/Summer ‘18 debut.