I was trying very hard to not laugh. I guess everyone must have thought I was bipolar, because I kept alternating between glaring at the fat black man I fired ages ago and laughing at the models falling all over themselves.
I particularly enjoy the comments at the link above. My assistant kept reading them out loud and I was laughing so hard I fell out of my chair twice. I may have also been the gin and tonics, but I am pretty sure it was the comments. And since I've been so mirthful lately, I need to make it up by eviscerating a few of the commenters.
'I was SHOCKED at the skinniness of some of the models (Yulia Carmack) at the Prada show. Those girls look ill and designers should not be encouraging sick models. Such an outrage. - Katie'
Kindly lose twelve pounds immediately. I can feel your fat face staring at my assistant who is reading your comment to me. And I would like to define comment in your case as misguided and uninformed idiocy. Who cares if Miuccia likes them skinny? This reeks of bitterness - were you not picked to walk at your Barbi... Barblizon... Babizone... (you know, that fake money-laundering 'modeling school') graduation in 5th grade? Poor dear.
'Hey Prada - why no black women or Asian women or Hispanic women? Is the entire world full of white, blonde size zero women? I didn't think so. - Chicagoexhile'
Chicagoexhile (spell 'exile' right for Karl's sake) -
Really? I had no idea. My world is full of size zero women. White and blonde notwithstanding - there are plenty of tan brunettes around Vogue. Miuccia is a former Communist, dear. She loves uniformity. And it's not chic to be politically correct all the time. It's called stirring the pot, I believe.
And with that, I must get back to stirring my gin and tonic. I do love Tanqueray - it brings out my viper tongue.