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In this week's New Yorker, there's an utterly charming profile of the insanely quotable Christian Louboutin. After you read it, you will think, Damn, I wish he was my friend! And not just because the wealth he harvests from selling 500,000 pairs of shoes a year lets him buy fancy castles and go on exotic vacations with Diane von Furstenberg. He's quirky: in the article, he spends a lot of time driving the writer around France on a Vespa, driving like a bat out of hell; and he once jumped out of a moving car simply because he was tired of arguing about architecture with the driver. Other fab Loub nuggets: he designed a shoe in homage to a murdered prostitute (and he was briefly implicated in the murder); if you have a cool $5K (or much more), you can have him customize a shoe for you; and our favorite, he reveals that one of his customers has to lie about her purchases -- when the credit card bills come, she tells her husband that Christian Louboutin is the name of her OB/GYN. [New Yorker]
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