Miuccia, just go away.

Miuccia called today.

She said she has heard that I don't really like her.

She threatened to remove me from the guest list to her boring party for that giant Prada racing yacht her silly husband owns.

I don't care, really - yachts are demode. So tasteless. And the only people who show up to parties Miuccia throws are weird artists who set garbage on fire or Kirsten Dunst.

I might have an assistant punch Kirsten in the mouth, just so she will get that snaggletooth fixed. In that shoot we had where she was wearing that giant black tulle Galliano insanity, we spent $25,000 airbrushing that ugly thing away. I had to divert funds from the Closet renovation fund. I couldn't put in a planned 2,000-square-foot Louboutin archive. Needless to say, everyone who had anything to do with telling that ugly girl to look at the camera was fired immediately.

Anyway, Miuccia was very angry. I told her she needed to just take a vacation, stop stealing homeless people's clothing and cease digging through Versace's mid-80s archives. She hung up.

Whatever.

GET ME KARL IMMEDIATELY.

Karl and I spraypainted a giant double-C on her silly yacht anyway. Spraypainting things is so in, darlings. We are the new Banksy. Banksy is demode. So demode.

Karl thought about spraypainting Chanel logos on people without them knowing and then charging them $4,000 for it. I think it is genius. Very Warhol.

I must be off - I sent one of the assistants to buy a case of chrome spraypaint. Out Magazine is next on our list - that damn editor spilled champagne on my patent Louboutins at a party. He was wearing a cardigan. How horridly outre. I mean, his career is being gay and telling others how to be more gay. He should know better.

BRING THE CAR AROUND NOW - AND TELL THE DRIVER HE MAY NEED TO USE EVASIVE DRIVING TECHNIQUES ON THE WAY BACK.