Michael Kors’s name is so synonymous with aspirational jet-set luxury that he could set up a travel agency alongside his fashion business and no one would bat an eyelid. Turns out he has already considered this plan. “I’m the best travel agent in the world!” he cries. “I’m always doing amazing itineraries.” The 59-year-old designer travels incessantly, like the Dom Pérignon-swigging, private jet-commandeering shopaholics who populate his advertising campaigns, and he never allows geography to get in the way of his passions. “Only I, a true theatre addict, would do this,” he says conspiratorially, “but in November, we’re working in Italy, then going to South Africa for a holiday, then pit-stopping in London to see Vanessa Redgrave in The Inheritance that evening, before going back to New York. I can’t wait.”

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