It’s not the days that are old, it’s you that’s old.
Beauty is also submitted to the taste of time...
I hated the company of other children. I wanted to be a grownup person, to be taken seriously. I hated the idea of childhood; I thought it was a moment of endless stupidity.
I only know how to play one role: me.
I’m not crazy to discuss fashion with men. I couldn’t care less about their opinion.
I love dogs, but dogs, you have to be in the country with dogs. I cannot walk a dog on the street.
I live my memoirs, I don’t have to write them down.
I am a sort of vampire, taking the blood of other people.
There are so many third-rate people now who are more famous than people who should be famous, but sometimes people who could or should be famous are very boring, too.
When I was a child, I never played with other children. I hated them.
I was never a feminist because I was never ugly enough for that.
Only the minute and the future are interesting in fashion – it exists to be destroyed. If everybody did everything with respect, you’d go nowhere.
I have now exactly the same weight I had when I was 18, 20.
Some people would like me to be round again.
I like newspapers. Maybe the iPad is very modern and everything, and I’m not against it, but I like the physical contact. And the physical contact of metal and glass is not as sensuous as paper.
I like girls to be wild but at the same time beautifully brought up and very funny.
I had an interview once with some German journalist – some horrible, ugly woman. It was in the early days after the communists – maybe a week after – and she wore a yellow sweater that was kind of see-through. She had huge tits and a huge black bra, and she said to me, ‘It’s impolite; remove your glasses.’ I said, ‘Do I ask you to remove your bra?
When I was younger I wanted to be a caricaturist. In the end, I’ve become a caricature.
One Is Never Over-Dressed OR Understand With A Little Black Dress” By Karl Lagerfeld.
There is nothing worse than bringing up the ‘good old days.’ To me, that’s the ultimate acknowledgment of failure.
I am a living label. My name is Labelfeld not Lagerfeld.