“his new store is for "all the guys I know, all my friends, who can't fucking find anything to wear." I know my value as a product, and I've divorced myself as a human from myself as a product. I will never retire, I will work until the day I die. (at 45 years of age.) about his scents he sells - Ford has said they are supposed to smell the sweat on a man's balls : "a woman wants a man to smell like a man" he thinks. In the entry foyer (of his store) a stainless steel Lucite Fontana sculpture witha dlash down the middle hangs on a gray wall. "Did you see there? Ford whispers to me. "I thought the the men's store had to be designed around a vagina". "upon arrival (for an interview), he basically lies on the banquette - Ford doesn't sit so much as slither, shimmying his butt down low on his seat, propping himself up on his forearms, and looking out from under his long eyelashes with a postcoital stare."”
