American women often fall into the trap of, "Oh, these are my weekend clothes. These are my work clothes. This is what I wear at night." It's so old-fashioned. The French are not afraid of their luxury. Americans can be so puritanical and think, "That's my special-occasion bag." Whereas, for a French woman, it's her everyday bag.

A man in a well tailored suit will always shine brighter than a guy in an off-the-rack suit.

I mean you might have wanted Carrie Bradshaw, but to me she's like toddlers and tiaras gone berserk!

My apartment looks like no one lives in it.

You need to be curious one way or another as a designer. Your eye has to stay curious. I look at people and think about how they live. I think about bodies.

I grew up surrounded by these tough, ballsy, strong women. They were also adoring women, but they were the kind of women who would argue over what kind of pants you were wearing or the color of your nail polish.

Give me Caviar Kaspia and give me a hamburger. I love the two extremes.