Sean "Puffy" Combs in an article on his new fashion line, Sean John, in the Sept. 9 issue of The New Yorker: "From my manicure to my pedicure, from my head to my toe, it's the swagger that I show the world, it's my face, baby. It's my walk, my attitude."
The thing about P. Diddy is, he's definitely not vain or conceited. Earlier in the same article: "[P. Diddy] plunged his arm into a bucket of ice water. Then he waved it in my face. 'Look at that ring,' he shouted. 'Look at the way it glistens. I am a damn fashionable motherfucker, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.'"
Later, in the same interview, he said, "I am a dumb, untalented motherfucker, as well as being a fashionable motherfucker, and I'm not afraid to admit that, either. There is not a single thought of substance that passes through my brain on a given day, and I ain't afraid to admit it. Cristal champagne, 1800 tequila, women, luxury jets -- this is the life most black men can't lead, so I lead it for them. And I know they appreciate it. Shit. 'Pass the Couvoisier' is a reality for me. It ain't for 99.9% of black folks, but as long as I keep dangling that dream out there in front of 'em, fuck it, I'm gettin' paid. I bought a diamond-studded Louisville Slugger and beat some brother down with it just for J. Lo, but she wasn't impressed. What's a player got to do to get a girl back? Send her a flock of doves? Lick my lips in a lascivious manner? Smack her on the ass? Have my posse beat Ben Affleck all the way down?"