You know, Jane's best friends are clothes. She told me so.
We were hanging upside down in the closet today and I said "Jane, do you ever talk to your clothes?"
And she said "Yes. They're my best friends."
"Oh you are like me, aren't you?"
Then the Junya jacket spoke up and said "Jane, want to wear me today?"
"Mm...Maybe. I thought you wanted to go to that Ball with the Comme des Garcons top?"
"Yeah...but I think that plan might be off" said that said the jacket.
"Ah", says Jane.
"I love you" I said to Jane and then I felt guilty....my hands started to sweat in my little leather fingerless glove; what was this sensation I was feeling? Is it....is it chic?
The Tom Ford suit I was wearing said "Yes, it is chic Karl!" It's so enthusiastic.
I thought back to that time where I ate a potato chip with my dear friend Patsy; how did I feel then?
I felt GUILTY.
But Jane talks to her clothes, so surely this......"love" is chic?
Gosh, her best friends are her clothes...so it's chic.
Of course it's chic. Love for people who talk to their clothes; and whose best friends are their clothes is chic.
I am Karl, therefore I am chic.
See that? Philosophy, right there.