Elegance And Beauty Have Been Banished.

I Like To Watch The Way A Model Moves In My Clothes, The Way She Gives Them Life, Or If They Are Wrong, Stillborn, The Way Her Life Rejects Them.

I Am No Longer Concerned With Sensation And Innovation, But With The Perfection Of My Style.

Fashions Pass Quickly, And Nothing Is More Pathetic Than Those Puppets Of Fashion Outrageously Made Up One Day, Pale The Next, Pleated Or Ironed Stiff, Libertine Or Ascetic. Playing With Fashion Is An Art. The First Rule Is Don't Burn Your Wings.

Isn't Elegance Forgetting What One Is Wearing?

I Participated In The Transformation Of My Era. I Did It With Clothes, Which Is Surely Less Important Than Music, Architecture, Painting But Whatever It's Worth I Did It.