I've been asked by this person called Naomi to plug some new shopping website. Now, this Naomi is not the model Naomi who most of you know in some form or the other- she may have had a one night stand with you, chucked a telephone at you, chucked a television at you, chucked a bank-safe at you, chucked a refridgerator containing fudge and only fudge, chucked a supermarket at you containing at least 250 packets of cigerettes, chucked an H&M store at you containing five different versions of Kate Moss, the Sweedish chef, and plastic Mr. Rogers. Or you may be friends with her.
Anyway. She's not that Naomi. Nor is she Kate Moss, although I think this is evident as her name is "Naomi" and not "Kate Moss", or even "Kate". She's some other Naomi who emailed me because well, this is Karl Lagerfeld's blog and I'm pretty important in fashion, really. Actually I'm pretty important full stop. Really important. I'm why you're wearing leather fingerless gloves, and why you're having fantasties over a Chanel jacket, and why you think white hair is cool. So emailing me is like emailing the President of the World, expect I'm more important. Like emailing the president of the universe, except I'm more important. Uhh.
The website is cocosa. It sells-- clothes and things, or something. You can sign up using the "invite code", "fakekarl". There's my bit of free publicity for the day. I sold my soul to the devil years ago, anyway. He dresses well. He does not wear Prada. Only gay male lawyers wear Men's Prada. Really. They look a bit like Nazi SA uniforms, hmm?
Next, of course, is to sell this blog to Anna's magazine or something. I think this thing's worth more than Vogue, no? I already have a pile of invites. So maybe I should buy Vogue. Apart from I don't really want it. Maybe I'll give it to my daughter for a birthday present or something. She can edit it. But then what will Anna do?