I don’t follow trends. It’s my job to create trends.
Snapshot number one:
Galignani, a cavernous bookstore on rue de Rivoli, Paris. Even on a Saturday afternoon, it is the kind of place where the only sounds are the turning of glossy pages and the pleasant creaking of varnished floorboards. Fiction is available here, but customers really come for hefty coffee table tomes about art, interior design and – yes – fashion.
I am looking through a book about 1950s furniture when I hear a familiar voice behind me. The language is French, but there is a metallic hint of something else: not English, but European. It has a vaguely aristocratic air about it; a Baron from the pages of Proust. I turn around and there he is: Karl ...