It was awkward, in more ways than one. At 1:40 p.m., Giorgio Armani sat up abruptly and announced he was returning to work. "O.K., I have to do 60 fittings."

He stood and slipped the strap of his messenger bag over his snowy head. He had on a long-sleeve navy T-shirt and dark trousers, and his suntan looked fresh for late September. I scrambled out of the deep, pillow-piled sofa in the salon of his Milan home as he said, "I'm sorry about lunch, but please stay for something to eat." He motioned toward a table set with a bucket of Champagne. Then he was gone.

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Source: http://www.nytimes.com/