I am sure many of you readers will be thinking "why is Karl looking so happy?", especially you fashion people; who seem to be never happy. Well, I'd never be happy if I had secrets like these, too. My secrets are far more interesting. I mean, I think secrets are a very important part of life-- but make them interesting ones. Instead of having an eating disorder; have a disorder related to being scared of eating wedding gowns. Or have a phobia of tall men wielding Chanel purses. Or have some complicated love triangle that might occur on Gossip Girl or Dynasty. Maybe you murdered your Mother in order to get her collection of couture dresses, which would otherwise go to your younger sister (that minx). And then you'll wear the couture like a glorious ipod, until you get too fat and sell the couture to a fellow in a travelling Jazz band; who in turn gives you magic weight loss pills that end up being some sort of drug that make you hallucinate new Pushing Daises episodes, during which time you do not eat because hallicunating takes up a lot of concentration; and then you discovered you've been made a statue in a foreign land and you need to escape before you're sacrificed to the girl in the cigarette box ad. Or something like that.
So, why I am happy in this photo is also a secret. But I have several clues:
1.) That is not a wave that I am doing
2.) Those gloves are specifically for protective purposes.
3.) Someone would be discovered to be dead outside this scene a few hours later. The lifeforce of this poor creature was drained; so that he resembled the physical impossibilities of photoshopped Vogue models, but nothing else.