The Glamour, The Madness, and The Art of Outliving Genius

When I first stepped into the Parisian design world, I was dazzled by the glamour. I thought it was incredibly cool. But later, I realized that a large part of studying "fashion" essentially boiled down to studying the history of major fashion houses. In doing so, you inevitably discover that the industry is entirely driven by its designers—and many of these designers are either notoriously indiscreet or completely reclusive. I suppose that happens when someone achieves an extreme level of success.

But I never wanted to be that kind of "special." I am perfectly fine with my work being considered bizarre or facing criticism, but personally, I prefer to stay safely behind the scenes. I let the work speak.

Looking back at the history of these brands, you realize a grim truth: during one of fashion's most prosperous eras, an entire generation of brilliant fashion figures died during the AIDS epidemic. This led me to a rather blunt conclusion: if you simply exercise self-control, manage yourself well, and just live long enough, your turn to be a top designer will eventually come. Why? Because so many incredibly talented but mad geniuses ultimately destroy themselves. I have zero interest in self-destruction.

In this industry, I am constantly surrounded by homosexuality. I have no opposition to it whatsoever, but I do oppose promiscuity and the reckless spread of disease under the guise of orientation. Sometimes it feels as though some people adopt it simply because they think it's the "fashionable" thing to do. Personally, I don't find it strange at all. As Karl Lagerfeld once said, being gay is just like having a different hair color. I feel completely indifferent toward it; a person's exterior is simply the result of long-term personal growth. For instance, I have always deeply loved Leonardo da Vinci's St. John the Baptist. True magnetism transcends gender, age, or appearance. When someone is universally and flawlessly admired, it simply means they possess an absolutely powerful force that makes them worthy of being followed.

Speaking of people worthy of admiration, there is one deceased figure I revere academically: Karl Lagerfeld. He is my spiritual mentor when it comes to fashion and intellectual work. Even though he has passed away, I continue to follow his philosophy as an outstanding designer. As for the rest of his personal life? I neither know nor care.

I am in my thirties now, and I understand the deep complexities of human nature. I don't bother learning about things that don't interest me, and I absolutely refuse to deify my idols. In fact, the only person I dare to put on a pedestal is myself. Why? Because I am the only person in the world who can guarantee my own discipline, my own morality, and my commitment to doing no harm.

My advice to young people is this: when you admire someone, only idolize the part of them that inspires you. Never assume they are flawless. If you do, the day their perfect persona collapses, your own belief system might collapse with it. At the end of the day, the only thing we can ever truly know and rely on is ourselves.

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