Editor’s note: This article appeared in the Nov. 11, 1996 issue of Fortune.
On a brilliantly sunny summer afternoon, the kind of day people dream about to get them through the dreary frigid winter, we’re in a Manhattan office building trying to figure out where Ralph Lauren will sit. Actually, we’re in Lauren’s small, all-white office on Madison Avenue, and with two large, lovely chairs and a big cushy couch laid out before us, the answer is far from obvious. Rather than chance some giant faux pas by claiming his favorite spot as our own, we bravely put the question to him: “Mr. Lauren, is there a particular place you’d like to sit?” His response: “Wherever the light makes me look best.”
