Briatore, Flavio

5 minutes with: Flavio Briatore: No more babes for me, just my family and the VALiens

Flavio Briatore: No more babes for me

Flavio Briatore: No more babes for me

From the age of 14, when he yearned to seduce older girls (“as opposed to   now,” he has the grace to laugh, “when it’s the complete opposite”), it was   the “conquering” that Briatore loved best. “I loved flirting, but this whole   women’s liberation thing now means that it’s so much easier – too easy,   really. Whereas before you might go fishing in a river, catch one fish and   find it a big achievement, now you go fishing in the pond, catch three   hundred fish and suddenly you have it by the kilo.”

Since his marriage and the birth of his baby, Falco, three months ago, fishing   is off the agenda. “I’m much calmer now,” he volunteers. Does he change   nappies? “No, no,” he is unable to restrain a sneer of disgust. “That really   is the woman’s job. I’m good but I’m not that good. Still, it’s funny you   know,” he softens for a moment, baring an admirable set of porcelains. “This   little baby arrives and it changes your life, so you really need to respect   your wife and your family.”

When pressed about whether he believes he will stay with Gregoraci for the   rest of his life, however, that sentimentality dissipates. “I don’t know   yet. I don’t know what’s written in my book.”

However, the high life he once enjoyed and still peddles now bores him. “At my   age quality of life is important, so I prefer to be able to wear jeans and   eat salami and cheese with two friends than have caviar and Cristal in some   boring place where the waiters take twenty minutes to describe where the   meat comes from.”

He is not materialistic, he insists. “Only yesterday I had a Big Mac over the   road.” Really? He just wandered into McDonalds on a whim? He looks bemused.   “No… I sent my driver to pick it up.”

He credits his family’s attitude to financial frivolity with his own ability   to remain grounded. When Briatore gave his farmer brother a tractor as a   present a few years ago, he was asked to take it back a few months later.   “It was too big for the field, so he had it parked in the middle of the   square in the small town in which he lived, and it was obliterating the   church.”

The money he worked so hard to make as a teenager in Verzuolo is no longer   what makes him happy. “I like the idea of forming a synergy with the people   I work with. I’m proud to have created the things I have.”

And as a Catholic, does a sense of right and wrong govern his actions? “Well   it’s a very fine line, isn’t it? What is wrong for someone can be   right for another, so….”

He doesn’t go to confession, he admits, and laughs when I ask whether he   thinks he might make it into heaven at the end of his colourful life. “It   would be nice to. I imagine heaven would be a place where you could eat   cheese and salami, and wear jeans every single day.”

————– article taken from www.telegraph.co.uk ——————–

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