Published: February 20, 2005
Even at his own superhuman rate, Karl Lagerfeld was a busy man last summer and fall. On July 31, he was in Monaco for the 18th birthday party of Charlotte Casiraghi, a daughter of his friend Princess Caroline. Both mother and daughter wore Chanel, as might be expected. Chanel may not be Lagerfeld's house, but after 22 years as its designer, no one would dispute his role in making Chanel the most glamorous fashion name in the world.
On Aug. 4, he was at his home in Biarritz, where I saw him and where we took a spin in one of his golf carts -- Lagerfeld in a high-collared white shirt, jeans, a black cardigan and many rings -- to see his new state-of-the-art photography studio and library, containing every vinyl record he has ever owned and about 100,000 books. Two days later he flew to Deauville to spend the weekend with Alain Wertheimer, who owns Chanel, and his wife, Brigitte. Recently, Wertheimer expressed his gratitude to Lagerfeld by saying he would sell Chanel when Lagerfeld decides to retire, a gesture that no one, least of all these two men, would take seriously. Chanel has been in the Wertheimer family since 1954, when they bought out Coco Chanel. Wertheimer and his brothers own the company lock, stock and barrel. What's more, says Francoise Montenay, the president of Chanel, the company's revenues are greater -- when you add up the bottles of No. 5, the tubes of lipstick, the quilted bags, the pearl earrings, the camellia hair bows, the tweed jackets -- than those of Louis Vuitton, which last year totaled $4 billion. That would make Chanel the biggest luxury company in the world.
Still, the statement, serious or not, says a lot about the value of Lagerfeld's role, which Lagerfeld -- the last of a line of rich, cultivated Swedes and Germans, who today professes no attachments to anything or anyone -- sums up as that of ''a professional hit man.'' The rest of August was spent in Biarritz, catching up on paperwork (Lagerfeld, who doesn't use a secretary, keeps a separate desk for each language he speaks), entertaining Caroline's kids and giving his approval to a Chanel exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which opens on May 2 and will be, without a doubt, the social event of the season.
By early September, he was in Paris and at work on collections for Chanel, Fendi and Lagerfeld Gallery. On Sept. 23, having spent the afternoon at Chanel, he dropped by Cafe de Flore, where he is something of a regular, and signed four autographs before leaving at 1 a.m. The next day, he flew to Milan to attend a dinner given by Franca Sozzani, the editor of Italian Vogue, for the artist Anselm Kiefer, making a belated entrance in a floor-length kilt designed by his friend Hedi Slimane of Dior. He was back in Paris the following day, but within 36 hours he was again in Milan for fittings at Fendi. It was the only time in four months I sensed boredom behind the dark glasses. Other than his paycheck from Fendi and his friendship with Bernard Arnault, the chairman of L.V.M.H., you have to wonder what keeps him there. The last fur collection was substandard, and none of his ready-to-wear is being bought by American department stores. ''Still, he gets reviewed and photographed, and he keeps the whole machine going,'' said a former Fendi executive. And Lagerfeld doesn't hide his disdain for Fendi managers, saying: ''Arnault is no problem. But the rest, I don't know. I'm not used to people who have no real position of power, who are scared of power.''
A week later, on Oct. 6, Lagerfeld started fittings for the Chanel show, which would involve 95 models and much stage work, since the plan was to simulate a film premiere, with Nicole Kidman, to whom Chanel had paid millions to appear in its No. 5 ads, as the main star. That night he photographed the model Daria Werbowy for V, the magazine edited by his friend Stephen Gan. The next day he rose early and stayed in his bedroom, sketching and talking on the phone, in one of his long white nightshirts (like all of Lagerfeld's shirts, they are made for him by Hilditch & Key, and he says he has more than 1,000) until almost noon, when he dressed, put on his rings and the black neck cord that holds the wedding rings of his parents, and left for Chanel. He did more fittings until midafternoon, when he decided to clear his head with a shopping trip to Dior. When I saw him at Chanel at 6, Lagerfeld was working his way through a dietetic chocolate pudding that looked as if it would have no trouble sticking to Coco's famous walls. He didn't know how late the fittings would go. ''The last time I asked we still had 50 girls,'' he said cheerfully. I guess the pudding and the shopping had put him in a good mood. ''Look, it doesn't matter to me what time we finish,'' he said. ''I'm like a hired escort.''