












MOKE, MONACO & THE GLORIOUS ART OF NOT TAKING YOURSELF TOO SERIOUSLY
There are countless ways to get around during Monaco Grand Prix week.
Helicopter. Tender. An Aston Martin with diplomatic plates. Or by train. if you want to experience the full Riviera buzz.
We, naturally, chose the jolliest orange MOKE on the Riviera.
For one glorious week we zipped around the Côte d’Azur in what can only be described as a street-legal beach toy, blaring French music we couldn’t translate and waving to strangers like we were royalty (or mildly sunburnt extras in a Wes Anderson film).
The locals were enamoured. The fans were enchanted. People couldn’t help but be curious about the little orange MOKE. We were stopped outside Casino Square, twice along the coastal road to Èze, and once by a man in Nice who, with a twinkle in his eye, said “Magnifique!” and struck up a conversation about where we’d found such a gem.
It became more than just a car—it was our camera mule, our suntrap, our Monaco prop of dreams.And most importantly — our moving set piece to shoot the Parc Fermé 2024 Monaco Collection.
Paddock passes on the seat, three pairs of impractical sunglasses wedged in the footwell, a bottle of something cold nestled behind the handbrake. And let’s not forget the road ahead: a silk ribbon winding its way along the edge of the Med, inviting us to enjoy every slow, sun-soaked moment along the way.
This is a photo diary of that week. The car. The clothes. The coastline. The chaos. And a tribute to the tiny orange chariot that stole the show.
Keep cruising and enjoy the view.