Yves Saint Laurent Page #4

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More varied, as well.

Who designed the 300 outfits

in the collection?

Just one person.

You, I imagine.

You're opening your first store. What next?

I'd like to go away.

Go away for a long time.

Then come back to see

if I still want to make dresses.

- Stop drinking. You're plastered.

- I'm alone.

No, you're not.

Will you do my four collections a year?

I'm exhausted.

It's what you wanted.

I made the noose

and you're putting it around my neck.

What do you want?

You have it all and you're a lush.

What do you want?

I wanted to tell you I miss you.

That's all.

In Marrakech, you discovered sunlight,

other colours.

In the street,

on the walls, in the clothing

of the women of the Atlas.

Maybe you also found

the scent of your youth.

My friend, Loulou.

Loulou DE la Falaise. Nice to meet you.

Welcome.

Your home is beautiful.

Gorgeous jewellery. Costume stuff.

I love it.

- Where is it from?

- London.

And I made this one.

A little insect

that goes round and round the world.

Impressive. You did it yourself?

Yes, sir.

Taste.

It's great.

Where are you taking me?

What is this? A secret meeting?

- What is it?

- Taste it. It's majoun.

What's majoun?

Mixture of dates, pistachios...

Just taste it.

- If Loulou does. To reassure me.

- I had some.

I'm not at all reassured.

It's just cake?

You'll see.

See?

Not bad.

Easy as pie.

Stop staring at me!

- Who wins?

- I do.

Again? It's not a game. It's humiliation.

We'll see.

Stormed by police, barricades ablaze...

Where is this heading?

No idea.

If it continues, we'll look like idiots.

With our Left Bank store.

It's closed. The area is blocked.

I see my future as a financial catastrophe.

If communism prevails, what will you do?

I'll make dresses.

And work overalls.

And smocks.

And smocks.

And smocks. Mostly smocks

for the first few years.

Your turn.

I'll take the winner.

Your favourite real-life heroines?

My models.

Favourite poets?

Pierre Berg.

How cute.

Your ideal of earthly happiness?

A large bed, filled.

Your favourite quality in a man?

Body hair.

In a woman?

Body hair, too.

Your main character trait?

Kindness, I'd say.

What do you appreciate most

in your friends?

Joy.

What would make you the most unhappy?

Losing his hair.

He's right.

To be bald.

The gift of nature you'd like to have?

Physical strength.

How would you like to die?

In my bed, filled.

Your current state of mind?

Hilarity.

Your favourite season?

I'd say, the spring.

I love May the most.

It's over. It's June.

See you next year!

The "Liberation" collection

sparked a scandal.

For the new Saint Laurent woman,

a tuxedo spells defiance.

She is more than man's equal.

She's his adversary.

You developed a taste for insolence.

Mistreating the bourgeoisie

was a social and revolutionary gesture.

Revolution sold like there was no tomorrow.

A smashing success.

You were gorgeous as Christ

and as a superstar.

A far cry from the seminarian.

Cover me.

Stop talking. Come dance.

Thade, I'm off.

I'm leaving.

- Hi, honey.

- Hey, you.

I'm off.

- Why?

- His bullshit drives me crazy.

Let the star remain anonymous!

How are you, Karl?

I hear you've started working out.

Is that why your thighs hurt?

Cheeky boy!

Yves Saint Laurent,

Jacques DE Bascher, my man.

Why did Pierre leave?

I don't know. I'll go get him.

Wait for me, Loulou.

A picture, please.

Do you have a cigarette?

Cute friend.

Can I touch?

Your bullshit is great advertising.

Sales are up. Charles of

the Ritz is thrilled.

What got into me?

I can't control myself.

Only you can help me.

You listen to no one.

I listen to you. I swear.

What do you want me to do?

If I isolate you, people

will say I'm a tyrant.

A tyrant is fine.

A pimp who found his all-star hooker.

You made it all happen.

You're a genius, Yves.

You'd have succeeded one way or another.

That's no excuse.

You had the stuff of genius. As for me,

I knew how to accompany you.

Whatever happened between us,

this pact was never thrown into question.

"He belonged to that magnificent,

pathetic family of neurotics

"which is the salt of the earth.

"All great things we know

come from neurotics.

"They and they alone founded the religions

"and composed chefs-d'oeuvre.

"The world will never know

what it owes them

"or how much they suffered to give it."

That gets your ears buzzing.

You're seeing the shrink on the 15th.

I put it in your calendar.

Someone for Mr Saint Laurent.

He's not in for anyone.

I'll deal with it.

No, Loulou. I trusted you.

Giving drugs to Yves is forbidden.

Get going.

He asked me to work with him.

Work?

You can't cloister him. He has friends.

There is no victim, no torturer.

Or there are two of each.

I can't search you.

Go see your friend.

Take care of him.

Everyone, look at the camera!

Smile, girls. Happy family reunion!

Perfect.

One more.

With your mother.

Smile, lovebirds.

Beautiful.

Three months.

You isolate him from those who love him?

I'll send you the pictures.

How dare you?

How's your plant nursery, Dad?

I'm closing it.

I've lost my knack for business.

I can see the sea. It's enough.

You think of Algeria?

I never thanked you for the car.

What car?

The one you gave me.

A Fiat.

So you like it?

A lot.

I'm glad.

Here! Here!

Lawrence of Arabia!

Jacques, stop humiliating your cousin.

He likes it.

You think I'm a harlot?

I'd say rather

a whore.

"Harlot" sounds very 19th century.

That's my century.

So there's an explanation.

You must cost Karl a fortune.

Karl gave it to me.

For you, a token of my admiration.

No, I refuse it.

Marrakech lost its sparkle for us.

I was there. I followed you.

I tried to help and protect you.

I protected you from everything.

Probably too much.

No need to shower me with gifts.

No need to buy me.

A bad habit I've taken on.

And stop sending all these letters.

I'd rather see you every day.

You're the man I want to grow old with.

You say the same thing to Karl.

With him I'm a clown.

It's comfortable.

You confuse me.

You perturb me.

When we're in love, we're in danger.

That's what I like.

Wake up. Wake up.

Open your eyes! Look at me!

Don't fall back asleep.

Wake up.

I'm awake.

Leave me alone!

I'm awake!

Why do you do this?

You think you're Christ on the cross?

Do you enjoy being like this?

I find him handsome.

I find him elegant.

He has a nice body.

He's graceful.

I love him.

But you're the love of my life.

Jacques DE Bascher kept our meeting

a secret until his death.

He was right.

I may have no principles,

but I'm a man of my word.

Jacques? It's me.

Why?

What did you do? What did you do?

Good evening.

Where are we going?

- Folies?

- A party.

Excellent. I'll get my jacket.

Get up and get lost.

Get lost. Beat it.

You're not going out.

I'm not going out?

Not going out!

Loser!

You're a parasite!

You're pathetic!

Salima?

My medicine.

It's fine.

I found it.

- I must finish.

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