
I especially like this extract on Karl Lagerfield from the New Yorker:
He spends most of his time in a thousand-square-foot room, at the center of which sat a modern fourposter bed. The posts were made of fluorescent bulbs, and a sable bedspread was strewn with paperbacks and magazines and more iPods. Lagerfeld says that he sleeps seven hours a night in this bed; he also spends considerable time lounging on it during his waking hours, reading and drawing. There was a large desk a few feet away, piled with papers, sketchbooks, magazines, books, newspapers, and art supplies. Lagerfeld complains that his desk kept getting “buried.” To deal with the problem, he recently bought four more desks. They got buried, too.
Next time my own desk gets out of control I think I might just follow Karl and simply buy some more desks. The man really is a genius.

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