Monday, March 16, 2009

On making love to every woman (ever)

If there is one thing I have learned from when I was alive, it was that you cannot make love to every single woman.
"What?!" you are thinking, in shocked muted tones. "Uncle Yves surely cannot have made love to a woman?"
I've never made love to a woman in my life, not in the sordid little way you're thinking about. I've been something of a Cassanova in matters of lovemaking, too. If you're a woman who's ever bought a dress by me, I have made love to you. I've seen your nether-regions, I have felt le breasts (if you're endowed with such- throughout my career as a designer I witnessed the breast size go down until the models had the breast size of a double bass player). I have made sweet, French love to you and poured your wine and kissed you on the neck, my lips cushioning into your lovely flesh. I have done all this. I have done it to millions of women. And oh, some of these women are very adept lovers. Very adept, indeed.

Ah yes, light of my loins. Fire of my soul. You women make me quiver with passion. My knees get positively weak with anticipation as you put on one of my dresses, and put your lovely delicate feet into my muddy heels. Mm, I feel your breath on my French neck, every hair (washed in olive oil) alight. Passion of passions! My passionfruit is a mountain, and your back the sun. Let me rhapsodize about your painted toes, and sing about your painted face! O moon, O pancake factor number one!

Now anyway. The point being you can't make love to every single woman because uh..
Have you ever seen High Fidelity? It's this movie about this music person who breaks up with his girlfriend or something...I can't really remember. He had lots of music though. I don't understand why the movie couldn't've just focused on him selling music. So uh.
Have you ever listened to Blood on The Tracks? It's by Bob Dylan. I'm not sure what it has to do with this.
Well- uh. Don't do drugs like me or else you'll end up being slapped by Karl. You'll also make some pretty amazing collections that people go on about even though most of them weren't even born.

Girl: Oh, Yves Saint Laurent was a genius!
Other girl: He was like a totally important designer
Girl: Like GUESS.
Other: Yeah, GUESS is a totally important designer.
Girl: Soo post-modernist how his name is spelt like, in capitals. And only one name, like Madonna.
Other: Or Jesus!
Girl: Oh I don't think I've heard of him. Was he around with Balenciaga.
Other: Before Balenciaga.
Girl: Woah.

But drugs are bad. Elvis says so! And so do I. I'm having some hash right now and I'm sketching and typing. I wish I'd have someone type out these like Karl does. So I'm also typing. I'm thinking of doing skirts......yes, skirts and......and.......some colours. Everybody likes skirts. I'm wearing a skirt right now. I feel pretty.


Vidal Wu said...

^^ as if you could possibly read that.

in any case, too many young women haven't been made love to properly, just as you say. they haven't felt the chiffon of a Rodarte dress swish across their bare legs, or the tweed of a Karl-suit across their flat chests.

Jeunesse said...

Uncle Karl, this meant you've been making love to me almost everyday since I was 12. You made me blush there for a while, hmmm...

Anonymous said...