Hmm?

This is Karl Lagerfeld's guide to life, and it is time for another post.
Not just any post, but a Karl post.
Villager one: Hurrah!
Villager two: Hallejueah!
Villager three: Praise the Chanel!
Village priest: Praise Karl!

Well then. It is a Karl post. We have ascertained this as an actual fact, as opposed to a false fact perpetrated by those agents of false fashion. Good day to you! Obviously not the agents of false fashion. No, good day to you, loyal reader. For you are a fashion person with a brain.

Person: What?! A fashion person with a brain?!!
Old lady: Well I never.

And on Chanel News (chic, with a side dish of Fendi)

Talking head one: This just in. People in the fashion world, may just have a brain.
Talking head two: It has been estimated that over 80% of humans have brains.
Talking head three: However, some brains are simply not-so genuine.
Talking head two: Yes indeed, this is true. It has been proved that there are counterfeit brains out there, and that they are at large.
Talking head one: At large? That brings up connotations of....of.....
Dramatic man: DON'T SAY IT TALKING HEAD ONE!
Talking head one: Fatties.
Dramatic head: I die.
Rachel Zoe: That's my phrase.
Dramatic head: Isn't it bananas?
Rachel: Bitch.

Anyway, welcome to you, dear reader. We now know you have what we call a brain. If you have stumbled upon this blog by accident- and are wondering where the pictures are- and are sitting in your computer chair in a tracksuit- farewell!

A few readers have asked (such as Jeunesse) when the literary masterpieces that litter this blog will be published. They will be published soon, my little bat umbrellas, soon.
Tomorrow, though, I will be in my bookshop in Paris where I will be doing a "reading". However, I will not be reading it. In fact the book will not be present at all. What I will be doing is placing everybody who comes to the reading on the Chanel scales. So you better get practicing your scales if you're coming, hmmm?

My daughter Jane is having her birthday at some point, too. So let's all engage in "Happy Birthday."

Military Man: Ready!
Military Man: Aim!
Karl: Let's not...the happy birthday song is very demode. It implies cake. And you know what cake implies....
Sidekick Bob: What does it involve Karl?
Karl: All together now! It involves...FATTIES.

Sorry, I must vomit now. Even the word makes me sick to my well-bred bones.
But happy birthday to Jane anyway, hmm? I personally forgot my birthday in the 60's, as well as a rather fine watch.