SHOE DESIGNER Christian Louboutin is a scavenger. During his constant globe-trotting adventures, he collects, well, everything: Egyptian sofas, English farm chairs, feathers from the Amazon, African masks, Brazilian mid-century anything, Damascene tiles and so on. He squirrels these away in a warehouse in Paris, which he visits regularly, like going to see old friends. When it’s time to decorate yet another residence—he has five now, in Paris, Portugal, Egypt, Los Angeles and the French countryside—he rummages through his treasures, looking for just the right pieces.
Louboutin, who is 48, knew he wanted to design shoes since he was a boy growing up in the 12th arrondissement in Paris. He doodled them in his books, ogled them at the Folies Bergère (where he worked as an intern) and boldly responded to any nosy adult who asked what he wanted to be: “A shoe designer!” When he received a book of legendary shoe man Roger Vivier’s work, Louboutin was bowled over: “How amazing,” he thought to himself. “You really can make a living designing shoes!” Louboutin dropped out of school at 16, traveled to Egypt and India, hung out at the famed Paris nightclub Le Palace and put together a portfolio of designs, which he took to various couture houses, looking for a job. He landed an entry-level spot at Charles Jourdan, which produced shoes for Dior. In 1988, he met Vivier and helped put together a retrospective of his work at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris. Louboutin so loved working for Vivier that once it was over he felt he could never work for anyone else except himself. He launched his company rather haphazardly in 1992, when his friend, the antiques dealer Eric Philippe, mentioned that a neighboring shop in the Passage Véro-Dodat was available for rent. Louboutin took the space, then designed and produced shoes to fill it. Two months in, a fashion writer was in the shop and overheard Princess Caroline of Monaco gushing about the shoes. After an article appeared mentioning this, Louboutin was on the fashion map.
“The thing I always try to remember is that feet are attached to the leg, and that you must prolong the silhouette,” he explains. “The shoe elongates the leg and does it discreetly.