I woke up this morning to find the birds chirping and my latest Google alerts delivered to me on a silver platter by Brad, dressed in his morning underwear which says "Morning". I read through these Google alerts on my quilted Chanel paper and was most alarmed to see this terrible blog called "Teen Fashionista."
Now, who would make a blog called "Teen Fashionista", hmm?
Of course you'll remember I wrote a post decrying these "Teen Fashionistas" a while ago. I would say "somebody did not get the memo" here, but I don't send out memos. People should simply know.
Anyway, the post called me a "ghost writer". Please, I am not Mr. Armani. I do not have a fellow from the New York Times write my post for me. I dictate them to an assistant. I am perfectly capable of speaking English, and writing in it. There is no "ghost writer" involved here. It's a disrespectful term that only hacks should be given- and I'm not a hack, I'm a whore!
This blog linked to another blog. It's supposedly written by "Andy Warhol". Unfortunately it's not written by Andy, who is as dead as Bill Blass by Lim. It's a blatant rip-off of a book actually written by dear Andy: which can be found here.
I advise you to buy the book.
Let's not get our A-cup bras in a twist about this though, hm?
More importantly, I'd like to wish happy birthday to Lynn, who turns 21 today. 21 is a good age to be! Many chic wishes to you, Lynn.
In delightful news, a new interview with me by my favourite bunny in the world has been released. Read it here.