I’ve just attended my first Parisian fashion show! It was a rather unique foray into the world of fashion, and this impression wasn’t just created by the fact that there were hordes of children climbing and squirming on the stage beforehand.

No, it was somewhat exceptional as all the displayed garments were created with chocolate.

In a spectacle where brown was undoubtedly the new black, and edible the prevailing factor, model after model swirled past, occasionally throwing more foil-wrapped snacks to the crowd. The standard issue little black dress was converted to a shade of rich brown and decked out with some sort of peacock contraption trailing behind. All chocolate. The hostess-with-the-mostess waltzed by, in ruffles of dark and white chocolate, adorned with hundreds of chocolate forks. And who says that the design needed to be excessive? A simple approach to eye candy is often the most effective, and that was definitely the case for the first costumes, a sweet take on the Queen’s Royal Guards, as modelled by five lithe cabaret dancers from Le Crazy Horse de Paris. At first I was a little confused – how can it be a marvel of edible design when all they are wearing is chocolate buttons on their nipples? – But then on closer inspection, I realised that all the belts, buckles, stirrups and “bearskin” helmets were actually made from chocolate.

That’s right, last weekend a thousand sweet-tooth suckers and I succumbed to the exotic allure of an exhibition devoted to chocolate, and toddled along to the internationally-toured Salon du chocolat.

Ascending into this veritable Vegas of chocolate, one’s eyes were greeted by a rich, creamy blend of boring trades fair with Roald Dahl-esque chocolate factory. Enough of the sales pitch! Where are the free samples!?!

My personal smorgasbord read something along the lines of olive oil chocolate from Marseilles, bitter dark chocolate from São Tomé and Principe, repulsive lavender (followed by equally vile pink pepper) chocolate from I-don’t-ever-care-again-to-know-where, apricot chocolate, orange chocolate, Mexican hot chocolate, all chased down with Grand Marnier, sweet red wine and Baileys Irish Cream. Feeling a little ill, I calmed my sugar jitters with a more substantial chocolate-filled crepe, and some crunchy milk chocolate biscuits. On leaving, it couldn’t be helped – ‘just a little piece of Mars Bar for the road’ – but after the subliminal ecstasy of the other varieties (except for the lavender and the pink pepper), a good old Mars Bar just failed to hit the spot. At least it wasn’t deep-fried…