Reading Karl

What gets me about Karl Lagerfeld’s interviews is how unfiltered they are. Someone asked if fashion people are less stupid these days, and he didn’t give some diplomatic answer. He said yeah, they’re less stupid now. Then he said fashion is basically the only thing that works in France anymore, and drew a comparison about having a daughter in a profession politicians don’t want to acknowledge. He wasn’t trying to be funny. Just true.

I have nothing to do with fashion. It’s as far from my world as space travel is from his. But I read his interviews more carefully than anyone else’s—more carefully than I probably read anything, honestly. They feel like thinking instead of performing.

When they asked how he celebrates Christmas, he said nobody stays in Paris anyway. The work calendar in haute couture runs December through January, so he’s home working while everyone else is gone. No family, no obligations. He called it the height of luxury. Not wistfully. As fact. Someone pushed, asked if his staff ever comes by, and he said no. He doesn’t want that kind of dependence, doesn’t blur work and family. Everyone should have their own life.

This is why I hate standard interviews. The questionnaire format: ’What’s your favorite band?’ ’Which country did you love?’ ’When’s the new project?’ Non-questions built for non-answers. No one’s thinking. But an interview can actually be a conversation—something real comes out.

If he were sitting across from me, I don’t know what I’d ask. Not the easy questions. Not the ones that have been asked a hundred times. Just something real.