I read this ten page profile on the designer Karl Lagerfeld and found it amusing enough to post here. I am ambivalent about my response to it though. Lagerfeld is a being from another world and he is able to manifest his particular kind of eccentricity simply because he inhabits a world that most of us will never get close to. And it is romantic and I am sure it is authentic, yet it is also slightly nauseating and disturbing. Lagerfeld professes to be somewhat down to earth, eschewing the conceit we associate with some other designers and ironically he strives for a look of superficiality whilst spending all his time absorbing information, history and people. His consumption of knowledge is matched only by his consumption of objects; magazines, CDs, paintings, houses, iPods, books, gloves, suits, shirts, jeans. I understand that it is a bleeding-heart comment, but I still find it hard to reconcile this kind of consumption and its place in today’s world. As much as I like to read about personalities such as Lagerfeld, there is something pathetic and infuriating about him. He maintains his obsession with the present, even going so far as to rip pages out of novels as he reads them, but I can’t help but think there is something profoundly and ironically démodée about him and what he aspires to be.
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