Sunday, August 17, 2008

A package

I just got a package from Louis Vuitton. It's in a brown box, with "LV" stamped all over it and what appears to be Marc Jacobs' drool somehow managing to stick to the packaging. How do I know it's Marc's drool, not some employee at Louis Vuitton who's in love with me? Not the postman who delivered this suspicious package? Not my butler who received the package from the postman?
Elementary, my dear vultures. Marc has blue drool. No other person in the world has blue drool.
After a Marc Jacobs show, you might go backstage and find pens that Marc has sucked on covered in blue.

I've not had an assistant open the box yet, of course. I suspect this is some sort of scheme to infiltrate the Lagerfeld lair. I mean, it is a scheme to infiltrate my humble abode. So I am hiding in the closet with Anna and Toshio Iwai, some Japanese artist I found wandering outside my house.
Actually maybe he was just walking past. But I grabbed him with my gloved hands, and said "come inside, young man". And then I put him in my closest and gave him some tea. I have a whole lot of Yohji Yamamoto suits from the days...erm..the days when I was..erm....
Anyway! I gave him some of those as blankets, and he turns out to be a pretty nice guy. So, we had some more tea and Anna sat on the ceiling with Bee, but eventually Bee had to go to a "sleep-over". What is she sleeping over? Anna is rather worried at this.

So now we have called in the bomb squad, who are investigating the package. As is common knowledge in Paris, the bomb squad is owned and paid for by Chanel, hmm? And we sit in this closet. I think I need some new doorhandles for this.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Such packages should be handled with care. Perhaps they sent you a Speedy. I certainly hope not, or you would have to launch Marc in the Chanel child-pult.

We need to launch a war against LV. You and I know they are demode. And ugly. And fat. Let Chanel cleanse them of their sorrows and wipe them from the face of the planet!

And here is the point in which I would evilly laugh.