There’s something different about Marc Jacobs, as he bounds into the suite at Claridges. He’s in his usual uniform of white shirt and black pleated kilt, and the gym-honed physique is evident, as is the tan, the stubble, the diamond ear-studs and the tattoos peeking out above his boots. But it’s his hair: it’s not inky-black any more, or cobalt-blue. “It’s brown,” he says. “I’ve just had a hair transplant. I was starting to thin on top, see,” as he obligingly bends his head down. “I can’t dye it for a while, so this is my natural colour.”
Going a little bald is about the only evidence the American designer, who turned 47 last month, shows of edging closer to middle age. “Eeergh!” he says when I ask how it feels to be closing in on 50. “It’s better than the alternative,” he says, a retort he once heard Cher give on the David Letterman show years ago.
excerpt from telegraph.co.uk
Going a little bald is about the only evidence the American designer, who turned 47 last month, shows of edging closer to middle age. “Eeergh!” he says when I ask how it feels to be closing in on 50. “It’s better than the alternative,” he says, a retort he once heard Cher give on the David Letterman show years ago.
excerpt from telegraph.co.uk
