Karl is missing.

But you know Karl.  He's probably buried deep within his Closet, sharpening Shu Uemura eyebrow pencils in anticipation of a sketching frenzy.

Merry Chicmas to all of you chic people.

I bought Bee her very own underwear model this morning.  He came in head-to-toe Dior Homme.  I left them alone whilst she 'unwrapped' him.  He is quite a beauty.  Won't mind having him around.

For myself, I bought an island in the Bahamas.  Karl and I are planning on seceding from the Bahamas and creating a new nation, Wintour-Lagerfeldia.  Sounds regal, doesn't it?

You have to be skinny, chic and rich to live here.  And you must have a starchitect design your oceanfront villa.  These are a few of the requirements.  Also, Karl and I will reign over the island as King and Queen.  We're currently gutting the Ralph Lauren mansion on Madison as our official embassy to the United States.  Think very modern decor in a very antique building.  So chic. So now.  Tom Ford has been begging to be our Ambassador, but if he wants it, he has to ditch his old and mortal husband.  He needs an underwear model.

PICK OUT ANOTHER UNDERWEAR MODEL AND SEND HIM TO SANTA FE FOR TOM.  ALSO, FIND A SUITABLE PLACE TO BURY RICHARD BUCKLEY.  IMMEDIATELY.

Merry Chicmas to all, and to all a good vodka tonic.