That time of the year

Well. It is that time of year again. The time of festivities; the time of celebration; the time of drunkenness. I am of course talking about "Anna Wintour Going Out of Vogue" rumors; where the fashionistas start to celebrate and Anna gets drunk. You see, the fashionistas think Vogue should stop being so elitist. That's what they say, hmm? In fact the fashionistas love this. They are elitists. They love being elitists. Why do you think they never talk to non-fashion people? Elitism. Why do you think they go to the H&M designer collaborations? Lack of money. But that's beside the point. Every single fashionista is a proud elitist. There are different scales of fashionista, of course: We have "Fashionista Scales" in the Chanel HQ. They are litterally scales. You stand on them, and they tell you how much of a fashionista you are. Like the Merry Poppins measuring tape, huh? We use this as a scale to see if the fashionistas can...touch the clothes. Whether they can handle them. Can you handle the Chanel, in other words. Once, I stepped on them and they broke because it was off the scale. Once, a fat person broke them because they were fat. Anyway. Why they want Anna out is because Anna's simply better than them. Sure, she doesn't actually edit American Vogue, but nor does that horrible French woman...Carnine or something. The one with the teeth. The sharp, sharp teeth. Her sharp, pointy teeth. All the better to eat you with. Mmm. Yummy Margiela, she thinks to herself. Mmm. CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP. FASHION TEETH CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP. MMM DIAMOND TEETH.

Oh so pointy. It is le horrors.