A while ago I mentioned a children's book. It has been written, hm? It is being published soon. You will be able to get your little fingerless-gloved hands on it, and drape your tights that you steal from the Chanel shows, and read it with your dark sunglasses on at 1.40 AM. Yes, you can get your tiny sweaty hands on it, and give air-kisses to my children's book. "Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!" as you place KARL LAGERFELD: THE CHILDREN'S BOOK (Karl-Bear's adventures! Fun for all the family...chic ones only....others excluded..stand up to the tape measure, the chic tape measure, and it will determine whether you're chic enough) on a pedestal as you look yearn to lick the cover of the book, but you don't dare for fear that you'll ruin the complex biological system of the book itself.
"Non, non, non!" you will go to yourself, slapping yourself in a vaguely Tom-Ford-Bondage-like way, making sure you put it in a perspex case, just in case temptation overcomes you.
"OOOH KARL BOOK! I WANNNT YOU!" you might say to yourself, working yourself up into a state of lust and excitement. Then, if you go down this path, you'll probably put on some hot red lipstick and some Prada heels which unless you are my daughter, you'll fall over in. Then you'll pick out some lingerie and get ready for a night in bed with your KARL LAGERFELD: THE CHILDREN'S BOOK.
At which point you'll feel very dirty and repent, by making sure you go by the atelier and buy some couture.