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Some say he’s American, no one knows where he’s from, his name sounds French, he’s got that British class, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh- he’s Egyptian.

It’s thought that at sixteen, after graduating from a big design school, he lined his eyes with kohl to travel through time shielded from luminous lightning bolts and impurities, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh – the boy was deciphering hieroglyphs.

It’s thought that as a young adult, he worked day and night, was a designer, decked one of the biggest brands of handbags out with flowers, regilded the apparel of girls in heels, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh- he’s a pharaoh.

It’s thought he has a special fondness for Ed Ruscha who turned 1970’s America into various logos, that he collects Mickey Mouse t-shirts, in sum he’s a man of his era, but actually, though no one know it – shhh- he’s several billion years old.

It’s thought that today, trim and fit, he feels younger more alert more dynamic more joyful endowed with the extraordinary pleasure of giving shape to women’s desires above all but to men’s too, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh- his body’s come down through the ages wrapped up in miles of linen strips.

It’s thought he gets up at 5AM to walk his bull terriers, Alfred and Daisy, in the Champs de Mars, that he then goes to the gym for two hours plus three times a week does one and a half of yoga and also goes running the four other days, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh- he’s prepping himself for eternal life.

It’s thought he follows a diet based on everything that’s organic for lack of milk products, that he’s slimmed down to correspond to the ideal image of himself after several decades of ruling the fashion empire, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh- sarcophagus in Greek means “fat-burning”!

It’s thought he had his image immortalized by Juergen Teller not the kind of guy to rub an idol the wrong way even if it rolls around like a cat on the carpet of his suite at the Ritz, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh - the pharaoh had over a thousand stone statues of himself put up throughout his kingdom.

It’s thought he used deep lapis lazuli blue and shimmering turquoise so that brands like Louis Vuitton and his own wouldn’t lose their luster even three thousand years from now, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh- he’s the son of Gods.

He thinks when he lights up a cigarette that the buzzer that sounds was invented to alert him to his wrongdoing, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh- it’s a way to get purifying water to gush forth from fountains.

Some might think he’s the reincarnation of Amenophis III otherwise known as Lord of Joy, Furious Lion, Mighty Bull or even Brilliant Sun, by far his favorite nickname, but actually, though no one knows it – shhh- his real name’s Marc Jacobs.

©"Portrait-en-mots" Stéphanie Cohen Chaptal