FROM THE ARCHIVE: Ethan Hawke walks with the unhurried gait of a man with nowhere to go. His features—blue eyes, permanently terror-wide; a deep, implacable crease running down his forehead; the unchanging goatee—are pale in the light of a sunny afternoon in New York’s Chelsea neighbourhood.
As far as Pierre is concerned, bring on the piercing whine of engines, gruelling corner manoeuvres, brutal g-force of acceleration, exhausting heat, intense braking, gas fumes and sweat.
John Varvatos may be designing for a different kind of man. But that doesn’t leave him on the outskirts of fashion. It places him at the helm. It is difficult to find a parallel within the fashion community he is such an integral part of.