Karl totally bewildered all of my interns.
I sent one to get me coffee and she came back with a piece of chiffon and a homeless person. And she was muttering in German.
I really need to get him out of the Closet. He's been sitting back there all day, drawing all over last season's Galliano with a permanent marker. He says he's 'editing.'
Yesterday's Calvin Klein model fiasco is still apparent. His name is Garrett. And when he walked in to the venerable offices of Vogue, it was utter chaos. All work halted immediately. Every woman and gay man (which is basically the entire office) had thought of creative reasons to be in his presence. One of the male fashion editors even tried to do an inseam measurement 'to double-check for the next editorial spread.' I had interns falling out of bathroom stalls, hiding under desks... it was ridiculous.
But the piece de resistance was Karl's reaction:
"Hello Garrett. I am obviously Karl, hmm? Now take off your clothes."