So much so, in fact, that they caught the eye of a magazine editor during an interview for a job covering the London social scene. The high-octane shoes would, she reasoned, act as the perfect ice-breakers in party situations, so off I was sent. Dorothy might have had her ruby slippers, but my sartorial golden ticket came courtesy of a pair of Dries Van Noten’s twinkly brogues.

That’s the wonderful thing – one of the wonderful things – about Van Noten. He makes clothes (and shoes) that are unapologetic in their boldness and point of difference. They are designed to provoke a response, as is evident when the man himself flickers into view on Zoom from his Antwerp HQ, wearing a coral scarf indoors on this chilly March day, and clocks my somewhat outré shirt from his AW20 collection, a blazing pattern of roaring tigers.

“Oh wow, nice to see some dressing up in the midst of lockdown,” says the designer in his distinctive Belgian accent. It might seem at odds to buy fanciful clothes in lockdown, but there’s a sense of positivity, acknowledges Van Noten as we appraise my recent purchase, an investment in something to wear for happier times ahead. “Even if it’s tucked away, it’s a reminder that one day this lively part of your personality can come out. You don’t have to be a glitter ball all year-round, but when you do, it makes it all the more special. That’s the true magic of fashion,” he says with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

It’s an alchemic approach that’s well-honed; the 62-year-old is something of a fashion Prospero, turning even the most everyday item into something noteworthy with a sprinkling of his Dries dust. My own collection of his menswear – you may have guessed by now that I’m something of an acolyte – runs to around 25 pieces at last count. Not counting the ones that have been worn into retirement.

Why? Because, like so many disciples of the Church of Dries, he turns prescribed notions of menswear and how expressive men should be in what they wear upside down. Yes, amid his tailoring roster, which is as fine as any on Savile Row, you’ll find a handsome navy suit, but you’ll also find erupting florals on jeans, exquisite embroidery on bomber jackets.

There’s a richness, detail and depth of imagination that’s a world apart from the standard male uniforms of white shirts, smart shoes and greige chinos – whether that’s in the form of an ink-splash coat, a leopard-print blouson or a draped kimono jacket (yes, I have all three). Little wonder, then, that his clothes are the go-to for creatives in the world of art, style and architecture.

“Men are not bound by ideas of masculinity anymore,” he says. “They aren’t afraid to be curious about fashion, or take risks. The range of options of what and how we make men’s clothes has really changed since I began.”

Those formative years, growing up in the city that still acts as his epicentre, crystallised the foundations of the Dries Van Noten aesthetic, which was built on men’s clothing from the start. He hails from a prominent family of tailors in Antwerp, so the codes of men’s suiting were ingrained in him from an early age.

Van Noten attended the city’s acclaimed Royal Academy of Fine Arts in 1976, going on to become one of the “Antwerp Six” alongside Ms Ann Demeulemeester (and Mr Martin Margiela, the honorary seventh member). He joined just as cultural norms of what constituted masculinity were shifting; the era’s androgynous showmen were suddenly gyrating their snake-hips and flouncing their feather boas for the world to see. “From the ages of six to 16, I was in a navy blazer, shirt and tie, then suddenly at art college I was looking at Bowie performing in high heels, Woodstock counterculture, glam rock,” Van Noten says. His SS21 collection was inspired by the era’s prancing showmen.

That flamboyance was the counterbalance to the other side of his upbringing, as a student at one of Antwerp’s most austere schools. “I’m quite a complicated person,” he admits. “I think looking into my brain would be very disturbing. I was educated in a very traditional, bourgeois way. I attended a Jesuit school here in Antwerp, so tradition and classicism are in my bones. I think both those elements – the exposure to those things and the Jesuit side – fused in some way and found an outlet in my work.”

That said, the more ebullient persona of his high-fashion Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde is never just noise for noise’s sake. The florals might be highfalutin, but they are painterly and nuanced. The embroidery might be richly ornate, but it’s crafted by artisans at a factory he owns in India, employing some 3,000 craftspeople.

“I like that there’s the duality; the savoir faire, the classic tailoring and then the fun; sequins, colours, texture,” says the designer, who lives in a 17th-century Neoclassical manor outside Antwerp with his long-term partner Mr Patrick Vangheluwe. He explains the reaction from men has slowly evolved since he began, steering from the safer sides of his suiting offering to the more exuberant touches. Today, more men are much more willing to embrace the wilder, more peacocking elements.

“When I first started out in the 1970s and 1980s, that sort of thing wasn’t so unusual,” he says. “But then the 1990s came along and fashion became very minimal, and I think men became more accustomed to plain, uniformed clothes. But now, gay or straight, they are interested in bolder choices. Social media played a part. Suddenly you’re aware of how you look. But men’s fashion has always been an arc.”

Conversations abound today about gender fluidity, but Van Noten – an avid textiles obsessive – was one of the first to apply an “anything goes” approach to fabrication for both men and women. “Gender has never been important to me in terms of design, and that was always the case in how I approach fabrics,” he says. “I don’t assign one fabric for women and another for men. Whether it’s sheer, lace or devoré, we apply it to both. That’s just a reflection of life. I have never pigeonholed.”

Despite his cross-pollination of fabrics and design aesthetics – blousy Flemish blooms are as likely to decorate a pair of men’s jeans as they are a women’s dress – it was in menswear that Van Noten cut his sartorial teeth. His early collections were menswear-focused, and in the age of oversized suiting for women – Van Noten cites the 1977 film Annie Hall as having a big effect on his formative sales boom – department stores such as Barneys started stocking his men’s collection within their women’s offering.

He states that he doesn’t have a man in mind when he designs, although an archetype could well be found in the connoisseurs who, in normal times, fill his Quai Malaquais store in Paris. Outside old-school gentlemen’s clubs or Concours d’Elegance savants holding court, it’s the only place I’ve observed strangers comparing notes on the finer points of all things Dries, the way oenophiles would a particularly fine Super Tuscan.

“I do notice that,” he says of the collective that’s built up around his menswear. “I’m very proud that we have a loyal client base, and I think they appreciate the fact that it’s never about a nice print. I try to layer messages within the clothes. Sometimes a print will reference an artist, sometimes it will nod to a collection from years ago, and that seems to resonate.”

Far-flung references may abound on Van Noten’s mood boards, but for now he’s content in his contained environment, which means Antwerp. “It’s an ideal base, which is why I never quit,” he says of the decision to stay put instead of relocating to the fashion capital of Paris, where he stages his shows. “After New York, Antwerp has the biggest mix of nationalities in one city thanks to its history as a port and the diamond trade, so it’s a big cultural mix.” In normal life, the designer can easily be in Paris, Amsterdam or Düsseldorf in just over an hour.

Van Noten is less gung-ho than some in predicting a tsunami of smart formalwear when lockdown restrictions are eased. “Menswear was already more focused on comfort anyway, so I think we’ll see a meeting of the two,” he says.

As the world gears up to open again, the designer is adamant that we shouldn’t blindly fall back into our old ways of overconsumption and a lack of sustainability. “I really hope something new and more intelligent evolves. We talk about returning to normal, but what is normal? Why is that a good thing?” he ponders. Normal: no one could ever accuse the effervescent Dries Van Noten, or his clothes, of being that.