They're onto me

I'm sorry, but I'm too paranoid to even write many notes anymore. Actually I'm not sorry. I don't even know you! I'm better than you, anyway. So whatever, hm?
You see, I am being followed all the time by agents of Other Fashion Houses. They're trying to get my designs. I don't know who I can trust. I can't even trust my Coke Butler anymore!
Imagine that, not having a Coke Butler. I can't even buy Coke anymore. I had to buy my own factory to manufacture my own. (The spies might smuggle drugs into a Coke factory somewhere in Spain or wherever they make Coke, and then get them into the crates of Coke addressed to me).
But then I realized yesterday that I can't trust the people who work in my Personal Coke factory. So I am going on a trip to Africa to look for oompa loompas. I read in a book called "Charlie and The Chocolate Factory" that they manned a factory owned by someone called Willy Wonka. I've never had this candy that Willy Wonka makes, does anyone know where I can buy it?


Anyway. I am going to get some oompa loompas and get them to man my personal Coke factory. Good idea, huh?
I can pay the oompa loompas in chocolate, or chocolate beans or whatever fatty food they want. McDonalds (vomit) even!


No. I really did just vomit. The reason there is so many eating disorders in the fashion industry is because of places like McDonalds. Model sees McDonalds sign, vomits. It's sad. I only need to be within 100 meters of a fast food place to vomit. I need to vomit again, because I mentioned McDonalds more.

That was better. Ugh. Now, what about Chanel, you say?
I wouldn't worry about the workers at Chanel stealing my designs. They love me. That's why nobody ever leaves Chanel. I've got Chanel's mother in my closet, and the two brothers who own Chanel in Switzerland. In Switzerland, where they can't harm Chanel. They think they chose to go there.

Ha.

Remote countries like Switzerland are the best thing ever, right?

Anyway, off to Africa to get some oompa loompas. I hope they're not fat.

(PS. In the picture I'm blessing the stylish. I'm like the Pope but more sexy, hmmm?)

Pencil Stolen!

The last few days have been hell, hm? I am not joking. You see, I lost my pencil- that's why I haven't been updating this. I only write blog entries in pencil for an assistant to type up, and only this one pencil. Nothing else is satisfactory.

So I couldn't write blog entries. I couldn't even design. I sat outside my window and watched the young people do their thing while a taskforce of everyone at Chanel in Paris looked for the pencil. I do like watching the young people. I didn't eat, I didn't move.

I think this pencil has special powers, to be honest. When I tell people this they just go "oh Karl, you are so crazzzzzy" and laugh. Like I'm making a joke. I can't tell you what those special powers are because then they wouldn't be special, would they now?

They're pretty good, though. Trust uncle Karl.

Anyway, someone finally found it today. I'm pretty sure an operative of some rival company tried to steal it now that I'm not throwing out old sketches for them to steal. Like they could work my pencil!

So I'm having the security around here tightened up. Nobody gets in or out without my approval, hmmm?

Dr. Who

The problem with emotions is that they stop you doing work, hmmm?
I watched this show called Dr. Who yesterday- they have these things calle daleks which don't have feelings. They were the best part of the show.

Chanel after me

So I've been thinking. I'm not always going to be around, because there's the possibility that I might die.
In the case that I do die, I've made some plans, hmm?

Chanel will not have any more designers if I die. (Not that I will, you know. But just in case).
I've designed enough designs to last several centuries. (They're in the back of my wardrobe, in the shoeboxes labelled "Chanel"). So, they can just make collections from them.

This of course means that I won't be throwing out old designs in plastic bags out of my window from now on: they need to be saved for the coming centuries.
I have to admit, I do feel a little guilty over this. What's the industry going to do without my old designs to steal? Literally hundreds of people will lose their jobs because no Stealing-Karl's-Designs industry will exist anymore, hmmm?

The other precaution I'm taking is having my key phrases programmed into a Karl Lagerfeld action figure (you can pull the string and hear phrases like: "You are a fatty, hmmm?", "Hmmmm", "You are ugly", and "Chanel or die". They can keep the action figure in my office if I die, in place of me. I expect the action figure to be taken care of. A bank account set up, a multi-million dollar salary from mini-Karl, a Mansion; invites to all the latest parties.
The won't even notice that it's not the real Karl.

Maybe I should have a Karl Lagerfeld impersonator to go to parties for me. There's an idea.
I hate parties. All those people.


I'm not going to die anyway. So no worries, hmmmm?

Album III

This Album business has really gone on for far too long. It only takes an hour to
design one collection, hm? I've got 2,564 collections just sitting in the back of my wardrobe. All those sheets of paper, just stacked up in shoeboxes from 1960 to 2008. I've done thousands more, but perodically I toss a bagfull of collections (a few hundred or so, you know) out the nearest window. And then the other designers somehow get ahold of them. Seriously. They have whole departments dedicated to finding "Karl's old sketches". All those "fashion design assistants"? Do you really think that's their job?

In fact, I have designed about half of the acclaimed collections for the past few decades. Make that 3/4s. The rest of the filthy hacks (AKA designers) actually use something similar to the "drawing things out of a hat" system as described in a Marc Jacobs entry somewhere back

I just do this for fun, hmmmm?

Anyway. The Album. We decided that we're actually going to have audio on it: I'm going to speak for one hour. Just me, speaking, which I think is brilliant. I could talk about a piece of dust for an hour. I could talk about it for a day. For a year. I'm brilliant.

So there will be two versions of the album. The one sold to the majority of people (read: fatties, stupid people, ugly people or all of the above) will have no audio, as originally planned. There will be one with me speaking on it given to the beautiful people.

I love myself,
Karl

Miami

We had the Chanel resort collection not to long ago.
I really don't have anything to say about it. Time to start designing the next show, hm?

Miami has lots of fatties, though. Probably won't show there again.

I'm wearing a sparkly jacket. That's cool.

Album II

I ended up answering the phone call. Personally. I almost never do that.
We're going to do the album. I know it's going to be good.
I've already designed the cover. That's the hardest part of making an album over, hm?
Brain's saying that I need to record "something". I am saying to him: why can't I have a blank disc?
People buy CDs for the packaging nowadays anyway- so just eliminate the things that you don't need.
1. People don't need music on the CD
2. People don't need music from me, they can listen to Cat Power or something....
3. People do need an album from me, because I'm Karl Lagerfeld

So the logic is to make an album with no music.

Good idea, hm?

Album

I was just off the phone to this record guy....I don't even remember his name. Brian? Eno? Brian Eno? Something like that, hm? And he's like "Karl, you're hip, you're cool- why don't you do an album?" And I'm "yeah, I am with the times hmm?" "yeah yeah, that you are. I mean, I was just having a dream" Me: "You have dreams too?", "yeah, I have 'em too. Anyway, you could do some rock or stuff? I saw you on GTA IV- brilliant fucking game. Fucking brilliant."
"Oh I can get a-rockin-and-a-rollin', like the young ones", "fucking great man".
"What did you just call me?"
"Man....man."
"Brian, darhling. I am not a "man". I am a god. A man-god. I am the sun, the moon, the stars, the very air you breath Brain. Do you understand?"
"....."

I think he was a bit freaked out by that, hm? Some people just can't face the truth.

Oh, there he is on the phone again. I will consult the tarrot cards on whether I shall answer it.

New Chanel Store Concept

I had another dream last night, where I walked into a Chanel store and there were no goods on sale.
Brilliant, right? A Chanel store with dressing rooms and everything, but no goods. The customer will merely look. And absorb the atmosphere. And then they'll go to the counter and say: "thanks, can I pay you for that?". Because it's Chanel. They're breathing Chanel air. Designer air. Not made in China. Made in France. Shipped in tanks of air all over the globe to these new Chanel stores selling no goods.

They walk in, breath my designer air, and walk around looking at well made (in France, of course) shelves of white. And they might go to a rack and look reverently at the Chanel logo upon the clothesrack and coathangers. And sales assistants will say "Can I help you?", they customer will say "yes", and the assistant will say "ok".

Outside there'll be Chanel garbage cans which customers can put their garbage in, but if they do they won't be allowed back into the store because creating garbage is Not Very Chanel, hmmm?

It'll be like a religious experience.

Like, The Church Of Chanel.

Handbags??? When did I do this?

Reading through all the new information added to the internet today I was interested to find that I've apparently designed a handbag line inspired by me.

I don't remember this.

Maybe I drew a few handbags late one night on a napkin, when I was waiting for another glass of Coke. Maybe. Was one of my people there? Did they ink a deal??

I design most of my collections without really being conscious anyway. It just happens, hm?
But I don't remember these handbags at all. When I blow my nose, I design. A wave of my hand is the next design. I'm that good.

Anyway, I am going to sleep. I have not done that in 25 years. One has to do it sometime, hmm?

See here.

So Marc Jacobs called

So Marc Jacobs called.
I don't answer the phone so I have now had "speaker phones" installed throughout my house, all with the Chanel logo and a self destruct button in place for when I get annoyed by people ringing me up.

Marc was like "Oh, Karl, how is it?" and said that he wanted "to do a collab on a Louis Vuitton project" (the man speaks in italics).

"Oh no I Karl is busy enough, hmmm?"I say.
"uhhh, you know we just put a few options into a hat, and mix them up."
"Yes, I do"
"Why won't you do it then??"
"I don't design like that"
"Hahhahaahahhaha, come on Karl....you must be kidding"
"No."
"You actually design?"
"Yes."
"I thought nobody actually designed these days."
"Hmmmm?"
"You don't use...the hat? Everybody uses the hat!"

One phone is now somewhere in New York. I threw it outside my window. If you have it, email fakekarl at gmail dot com for a fake Chanel dress.

I imagine Marc going "Karl? Karl?? Karl! Hey, I quite like talking to myself."

Karl is not happy

Jezebel said my Chanel dress that I designed specifically for Anna is "ugly".
If you don't know, my assistant for paper prints out all the new content relating to fashion from the internet every day. I read it all. I see all. I am like God, hmmm? I am the god of fashion.

Jezebel will be hearing about this. The fatties. Sitting at their computers all day...probably don't even get dressed! I imagine them going round their tiny houses naked and dirty, maybe a sweatsuit (this makes me want to vomit) covering their pasty bodies.

If they, on the off chance, happen to be thin. Well, they are the stupid people. Thank God, Buddha and all the rest that there's few of those in fashion.

Karl is not happy.

Photos

Processing photos from Met Ball. Anna wore Chanel that I designed (that's what the meeting I had with her was about). Michael Kors was there; he scares me a little with his salesman grin. Be back later, hm?

The Hardships of Being a Designer

No contact what-so-ever from that artist girl who made the Louis Vuitton-Dafur picture. How rude, hmmm? Do you think it's because I'm a fashion designer?

It's hard being me sometimes, I know I look like I'm having an effortless life; but I have to deal with the prejudices against fashion designers that are in the world today.

This, this is as bad as when I when Ashley Olsen ignored me thinking I was just some crazy old man. She didn't know who Karl Lagerfeld is! It was at a dinner and I came up to her, made some witty banter- as I normally do. And she ignored me! She just- continued to talk to some person at her side.
I walked back to the table with Anna "mother knows best" Wintour and Heidi "I like cocaine but yeah no I've never tried it but I like it" Slimane and muttered in French for a while. Anna (oh, she can be so motherly) went over to Ashley and explained who I was. She (Ashley) immediately apologized profusely. (I heard her say to Anna: "I, like, thought he was a creep. Hahaha!" People seem to think I am getting deaf, but I heard it all. Soon after a hideous Chanel suit I designed especially for Ashley was delivered, there's pictures of her wearing it somewhere*.)

I hear my limousine arrive for another party. It is hard being man-god designer these days.

*This is how designers punish people, by designing horrible ugly clothes that people will wear because it's designer. I get a kick out of designing one or two of these items once a year, and laughing at the idiots who buy them. Louis Vuitton, on the other hand, seems to be in the practice of punishing people with every item they make. Good on you, Marc Jacobs.

Coke: keep away from it

Someone replaced my Diet Coke with non-diet Coke. As in, Coca-Cola.
Imagine how many calories I've gained!

It was yesterday, in the meeting with Anna "I heart cute tennis players" Wintour. My Coke Butler wasn't with me, so I had it provided from some Vogue staffer. Somebody will never work in the fashion industry again. Ever.

It was bad enough when I had to drink Pepsi...

Only fatties drink real Coca-Cola. And I am not a fatty. New sign in the Chanel lobby: "Drinking Coca-Cola is not very Chanel".

Meeting

Meeting with Anna. My assistant is transcribing what he can hear outside the door.

...[inaudible]....
A: What's going to happen when you die?
K: Oh, I am going to live forever. I simply will not die.
A: (titters)
K: You see Anna, I started out as a man but I am now a god.
A: But seriously..
K: I don't joke
A: Look, Karl. There's this new designer.....
K: Hm?
A: She worked at Prada...
K: Next you'll be suggesting WalMart designers.
A: Prada's a good.....
K: Italians should stick to spaghetti making
...[inaudible]....
A: They don't have a Spaghetti tree?
K: Don't be ridiculous
..[inaudible]....
K: When I was a boy in Germany my family had many spaghetti trees
...[inaudible]....
K: Marc Jacobs designs for grandmas, he'll never do.
A: How about that project runway winner?
K: Anna?
A: Yes?
K: You haven't been drinking lately, have you?
...[inaudible]...........[meeting is still going]

TIME 100

I was just named as one of TIME magazine's 100 most influential people. Who are half these people? Jamie Dimon? Lou Jiwei?
But what an honour to be with the likes of Miley Cyrus. (That was sarcasm, hm?)

TIME is demode anyway.

Chanel Phone

What I really want to design is a cellphone.
Now you see, I hate phones. I've written about it. But today our society is always on the move, and cellphones are integral to this.
It would have a self destruct button, for stress. If you can afford a Chanel phone you can afford to buy another one. If you can't you shouldn't be buying Chanel, hmm?

At Chanel we have an over-pricing policy of 50% so we price a product at maybe 500% of what it cost or so, reasonable. Then we add 50% of that price to that. Our customers like that.
More expensive products are better in their eyes. With the phone we'd do the same.

Maybe the phone would have a few buttons or whatever, I guess. You're not buying the Chanel Phone for the buttons, hm?
It'd have to have the self destruct button, and maybe a few numbers. 1,3,8 and 6 or so. It doesn't need a screen because you do not buy Chanel Phone for the screen.

But it needs to be made of tweed. Can we do that? Of course we can.

The Critics

My assistant for all things to do with paper printed out all the Lagerfeld Confidential reviews last year and placed them in a plastic bag. I was tempted to burn them- they don't matter anyway, or throw them out the window and into the street.

Today though, I looked through a few and frankly I was a little amazed at how stupid the world has become. These reviewers seem to think I'm lonely. I am not lonely. Loneliness is for people who have nothing better to do, hm? I am too busy for loneliness. Loneliness is for those who live in their past. Maybe the reviewers fear the present, preferring to stick with Citizen Kane.

Of course this film wasn't good. I was followed by a simpering person who adored me and didn't push me. And it looked like a home video tape. There was no questions, hmmm?

How stupid everyone is. If I wasn't "superficial" I would be depressed.

For the record, I'm not superficial. I read books, I have a ponytail. See that finger on chin? (they wanted me to frown but I said that would cause frown lines). It means I'm thinking. Deep thoughts.