Being Pierre Cardin

“I HAVE created a world,” Pierre Cardin tells me. “Whether you like it or not, that’s another matter!”

We’re sitting in his office, which since the 1960s has overlooked the Élysée, the French president’s palace, on the swank Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré in Paris. The unrenovated chambers are in mild chaos. Books and drawings are piled on his desk, fading newspaper clippings cover the walls; TV crews from Brazil and Japan are shuffling back and forth in

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