I’m reminded of that scene in the fashion documentary Valentino: The Last Emperorin which Karl Lagerfeld takes Valentino aside at Valentino’s party and tells him they’re the only two good designers in the world—which I take to mean, “I am the only good designer. Look what a good guest I’m being! I’m calling you a peer!”

European designers in particular hate American ones. They see Americans as sellouts and too commercial. This may just be my patriotism speaking (and I do love my country), but from my point of view, our hypercommercialism and obsession with pop culture actually make American clothes great.

There’s something very outdated about the European way of talking about these things. If you look at what walks down the couture runways in Paris, it’s not what the customers actually buy. People used to. In the sixties and even into the seventies, women of a certain social station would actually buy couture. And it used to be that couture week had a dramatic impact on the world. There was a trickle-down effect.

But now? There used to be more than two hundred couture houses in Paris. Now there are, what, a dozen? And Lindsay Lohan is designing for one of them!

There’s a quote from me floating around about this. A New Yorkmagazine reporter asked me at a party how I felt about Lindsay Lohan designing for Emanuel Ungaro. I was taken aback because I hadn’t heard anything about it until then. I said that if it was true, “It’s got to be a publicity stunt. Or a crack-smoking board of directors?”

How I said it was a little blunt, but I stand by the sentiment. I mean, Lindsay Lohan knows how to buy things, but does she know how to design? And if she does, then at that level?

The critics didn’t think so. Her eighties-inspired debut in the fall 2009 collection was panned. Women’s Wear Daily,the fashion-world bible, called it “an embarrassment.”

Well, at least Ungaro is trying new things and attempting to stay modern. Christian Lacroix has been having big trouble because he has only the couture line and has long seemed averse to any kind of modernization. There was talk about having the French government bail out the company—after more than two decades of losses. If I were a French citizen, I’d question whether that was a wise investment of tax money.

Fashion designers aren’t the only people who resent other people in their own industry. You also see massive contempt among peers in architecture.

I learned a fair amount about architecture when I was associate dean of Parsons and was charged with restoring the school’s defunct Interior Design Department. It had a rich history at the college, but in the sixties a decision was made to close it down. The belief at the time was that, given all the upheaval in the country—the assassination of President Kennedy, difficulties in Cuba, the brewing war in Vietnam—it wasn’t socially responsible to teach students how to design apartments for the rich.

Well, given that interior design was the largest academic program at the school at that time, the enrollment in the whole school collapsed, the Board of Trustees resigned en masse, and ultimately, owing to a financial crisis, it had to combine with the New School for Social Research.

To bring back the program, I met with countless people in the industry, including members of venerable old firms. Most of the famous designers I spoke with were known for classic, traditional interiors. Their clients have antiques and Old Master paintings and zillions of dollars with which to outfit their apartments on Fifth Avenue. And even though these high-end designers have a lot in common, they talk trash about one another to no end.

I mentioned one popular name to another well-known designer, and she flew into a rage: “He thinks he can put a glass coffee table in the middle of a traditional room and call it something special! I can use a glass coffee table, too!”

I found it scary how incensed these well-heeled people could get about a coffee table.

Architects are even worse! They tend to look down on interior designers. One architect I know said, “Interior designers are to architects as flight attendants are to pilots.” By contrast, interior designers often decry architects, because much of a designer’s job is fixing mistakes made by architects. We all have odd architectural features in our homes, like the closet door you can’t open if the front door is open. Interior designers pride themselves on coming up with clever fixes for such awkward corners.

At the Council of Fashion Designers of America dinners, it’s a big huggy, kissy meet and greet, but make no mistake: these people are cutthroat. Even the supportive Michael Kors loves to read the bad reviews in Women’s Wear Dailyout loud to entertain us on set. I couldn’t help but notice when he had less-than-stellar reviews one year he skipped that issue.

The upside is that this level of jealousy helps make the industry more competitive, which I believe is ultimately good for the quality of work that’s produced. You do need to be careful, though, if you present any kind of threat to a fashion or interior designer or an architect. Don’t go down a dark alley with anyone in the design world who might envy you.

Niceties Are Nice

IS CHIVALRY DEAD? I hope not, but I am always discouraged when I hear people complain about “old-fashioned” acts of politeness. For example, I have heard women complain about men holding doors for them, as if it is inherently offensive and implies that they are weak.

How outrageous is that? I hold doors for women, and I also hold them for men. When I’m at Macy’s, I don’t let the door slam behind me when I walk through. It has nothing to do with gender. I would hold a door for anyone.

Would I hold the door for a dog? Okay, maybe not, because a dog shouldn’t be at Macy’s, but otherwise, yes! It has to do with noticing our fellow human beings and saying, “I recognize that you’re on this planet, and I don’t want a door hitting you in the face.”

That said, I did once have a terrible door-holding experience at D’Agostino’s supermarket in the Upper East Side’s Yorkville area, where I lived for seven years. This little old lady was trying to leave the store and was having the hardest time with the door. She kept pushing, pushing, pushing. To help her out, I pushed the door open for her. Well, she fell flat on her face on the pavement. We had to call an ambulance. I thought, That’s where politeness will get you; I caused this by trying to help.It was horrible. I try to do a nice thing for her … and I end up putting her in the hospital.

I learned a lesson from that. It’s important not to be overzealous in helping. Since then, faced with a similar situation, I broach the topic first. I say, “May I help you?” Then, assuming the little old lady says yes, I push the door open. To date, I am proud to say, I haven’t put any more senior citizens in the ER.

If I’ve made errors of overaction, at least I am not guilty of letting opportunities to be decent pass by. Honestly, I don’t understand how people can navigate the world and pretend no one else exists, like people who have big backpacks and yet barrel through narrow aisles. I don’t mind if people have huge bags, but what’s wrong with “Excuse me”? Why don’t they take the bag off their shoulder when they’re on the subway and put it on the floor?

Treating others nicely is such an easy thing to do, and it makes other people so happy. You’ll see people’s eyes light up—mine, at least—when someone smiles and says a genuine thank-you to a Starbucks barista, or asks, “Is this bag in your way?” when they have a huge suitcase on public transportation.