The high-rise head office of Ralph Lauren on Manhattan's Madison Avenue – a great big tower of glass and steel jutting skywards – doesn't immediately tally with, well, Ralph Lauren. Until, that is, the lift doors open on to the sixth floor and you're enveloped by what looks like a Ralph Lauren flagship store – all cosy and low-lit with wood-panelled walls, moody oil paintings, and love-worn leather sofas scattered with plaid cushions. They've even built a sweeping mahogany staircase into this modern skyscraper, to connect his design teams across its multiple floors.
Along a wide corridor is Ralph Lauren's office, cluttered with curios. Books are piled high on every surface; framed artworks, magazine covers and awards line the floor, propped up against all four walls. Look up, and there are two 1950s plane models, which swoop above a vintage-looking shiny black bicycle (a gift, never ridden). Silver-framed photographs of his impossibly good-looking family – his wife, Ricky, three children, Andrew, David and daughter Dylan, and five grandchildren – cover the desk, along with other knick-knacks. A
