vogue.com
Six p.m. in paris. Second floor of the Palais Bourbon. The designer Rick Owens, dressed in a black tank top, black wide-cut pants, and calf-high sneaker boots, puts on a pair of eyeglasses and leans toward a large screen. His raven-colored hair flows over his shoulders, which are pinched forward. It is December, and a cool night presses on French windows near his desk.
“I was thinking on the toe, so it almost extends the toe and the sides of the foot are straight,” he says slowly. He is Skype co…
almost 6 years ago