Posted by Sara on May 12, 2003 at 03:29:57:
Bof! The curse of Philippe Starck.
Ever get that feeling that someoneís stalking you? With me, itís Philippe Starck, prolific French designer of global renown. Iíve never met M. Starck, but everywhere I go, there he is. I go to Paris: a giant gilded flowerpot on a plinth outside the Pompidou Centre signals an exhibition of his work. I come back to London: he has designed lounges at both ends of the Eurostar run and a couple of upmarket hotels. I go to New York - and Iím put up in the poky, gloomy faux-baronial Hudson Hotel, one of several by Starck in the city. I go shopping, anywhere, and there are his chairs, his lamps, his luggage, even his own specially tortured shape of pasta. I riffle through the glossy mags: thereís Starck. And his ubiquitous god-dammed lemon squeezer.
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