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Like anyone newly famous, Lacroix is making adjustments, not all of them pleasant. On the bright side, he has assembled an exceptionally warm, cohesive staff. Some observers suggest that Picart is moving too quickly, that the house may have problems delivering on its copious orders. However, the first luxe collection is arriving in stores on time or ahead of schedule. A potentially more serious worry is Picart's contract with Agache President Bernard Arnault, whose expertise is in the real estate business and who may want a return on his $8 million investment unrealistically soon.
Lacroix is learning the hazards of fame. He is now recognized all over Paris, and he is deeply embarrassed when asked for an autograph or cornered in a restaurant. Once an avid night owl, he now sends Rosensthiel to various events. "He stays in more, and I go out more," she says. "And people have got used to inviting him and getting me instead." She is often referred to as his muse, but she denies it. "I'm not a muse, but I amuse him," she says. "I'm not at his feet adoringly, but he can count on me for an objective opinion. Christian designs for a woman with a strong personality. For him I represent the humor and acidity of the Parisienne."
Lacroix has a boutique on the street level of his headquarters but, until his ready-to-wear line appears, no clothes to put in it. Instead he has filled the display window with sand and placed some talismans: bamboo glasses, Camargue grass, a mighty lobster (cooked) and other, more esoteric forms of sea life. When he returned to the salon last Thursday with his Golden Thimble -- all the more precious because his first one is locked away at Patou -- he found that his staff had laid an improvised red carpet, and he responded with a short champagne reception. The staff members were overjoyed. They had, after all, created the winning collection in just three weeks. For the designer, it was a moment for savoring how good his people really are. Sentimental? Yes. But now comes the Lacroix touch. His next move was to take the outsize, gleaming award and plunk it in the middle of the window, on the sands with the crustaceans. Maybe he will get the sun in there somehow yet.