TO CALL NICKY HASLAM a chameleon is an understatement. Socialite, actor, artist, cabaret singer, book reviewer, memoirist and nterior designer to the stars are just a few of the 74-year-old's guises.

Nicky Haslam at his hunting lodge in Hampshire, England.

The son of a diplomat father and an aristocratic mother (her godmother was Queen Victoria), the Eton-educated boy from the Home Counties has had a front seat at many of the most glamorous events of the past 60 years; mixing with Wallace Simpson, Andy Warhol and the cream of American bicoastal society.

Celebrity names litter his autobiography and conversation, signifying his progression through life, both geographically—London, New York, the Riviera, Italy—and socially (he lived for a while with renowned architect Philip Johnson). Here he is meeting Cecil Beaton, partying with David Bailey in East London, throwing the party of the year in New York to herald the arrival of the Rolling Stones, raising horses in Arizona, releasing an album in July, and "doing up" (though he would hate that term) homes for the likes of Rod Stewart, Charles Saatchi and Princess Michael of Kent.

Mr. Haslam fell into interior design by accident. "If I hadn't done that I would have continued in art direction. They were grooming me to art-direct Vogue," (he had a job with Condé Nast during his early days in New York). But then he began to "help" his friends with their homes—Bryan Ferry's house "done" by Mr. Haslam appeared in the first edition of the World of Interiors.

But his first love remains his country home, a hunting lodge built during the 16th century for Henry VII and formerly the home of James Fowler, co-founder of decorating firm Colefax and Fowler. It is the subject of Mr. Haslam's latest book "Folly de Grandeur," which he tells me proudly is already in its second printing and "doing quite well, y'know."

Of course, you can learn good taste. You can learn the subtle language of interior style but many people simply buy it. If you put yourself in the hands of someone who knows what they are doing, you can be confident it will look good. It is rather like being dressed by Givenchy.

Often it's a lack of time not taste that leads someone to hire a decorator. A good decorator/client relationship should be like a marriage. The time one puts in needs to be extensive. One needs to listen to them and understand what they like and how they live.

Great Hundridge Manor, where Mr. Haslam was born.

People think that buying something for their home which is up-to-date is chic, but often it's a cliché. I call people who simply give clients the current "thing" stylists not decorators.

I like looking up-to-date in terms of clothes, though, which is why I change my look so often. I hate to look boring.

I had a face-lift and I would have another if I needed one. It definitely changed my life. I'm not vain. In fact I don't like looking at myself. The face-lift was just about looking rested.

Every house dictates its style. If you listen, it will talk to you. All houses and rooms have personalities. Even new builds.

I think it is unkind to tell someone that one hates a piece of their furniture. I like to try to make things work in situ. In any case, even the vilest table can look perfectly charming if painted white.

Tailor Anderson & Sheppard's Burlington Street shop

I rather like things when they are aged, especially when people live in their houses for a long time and they age with them. Lots of people think buying "new" all the time is sophisticated, but often it's quite nasty.

I very much admire the style of Clark Gable [in his early movies]. I love clothes and I have too many. I never have enough wardrobes wherever I am. I suppose I should throw some clothes away but the minute one does that they just come back into fashion. I adore my tailor Anderson & Sheppard and I worship Topshop. My favorite jeans, which I wear all the time, were bought from a thrift store in Romania.

These days everyone is pansexual. Even straight men are that way. This is both unsettling and calming.

There is no Golden Age. I live in the present. You could say that I am a romantic with hope for the future.

I believe in the devil. I think there is definitely someone or something there to tempt us all the time and I believe in the idea of "being good"—of there being someone to emulate.

Great architecture inspires me. The greatest living architect is Joel Barkley in New York. His drawings are unbelievable.

I don't like or read novels, but ironically my favorite book is a novel: "A Legacy" by Sybille Bedford.

iPods are common. I don't own one. In fact I don't think any of my close friends have them either.

I drive an Audi A3, I think. They customized the color for me. Tonally, it's sort of like a dark-brown shopping bag.

Lena Horne in 'Stormy Weather' (1943)

My favorite color is an oily, greeny bronze. Khaki but darker. It's hard to explain but I know it when I see it.

My mother was fascinating and interesting, but she didn't really influence what I do. Thank goodness she never clung to me. There's far too much "mother love" out there these days. Families are much too involved.

The most beautiful person I have ever seen is Lena Horne. I have a memory imprinted on my mind of her standing in her box on the last night before the old Metropolitan Opera building in New York was torn down [in 1967]. She had a unique, imperial beauty.

The greatest crimes are bad manners and being casual about friendships. One should never take one's friends for granted.

Guy Chambers wrote a song for me. It's on my new album and I perform it with Helena Bonham Carter. It's quite good, I think.

—Edited from an interview by Tina Gaudoin