There were rumors going around on the internet today that I'm dead. I would like point out that I am very much alive. I did not pull a Yves. I did not pull the trigger; nor kick the bucket; nor fly the coop. I am still here, and I've got the heartbeat to prove it! Well. If I was mortal, I'd feel a heartbeat anyway. But I'm stood in this room, with a glass of diet Coke in one hand and the other currently moving in a very artistic way; it could perhaps be interpretive dance. And I'm dictating this entry to one of my assistants, who is typing this with white gloves making love to the quilted keyboard, and also talking to two not-so-important people on the phone (but important enough to know my phone number).
I mean, who really thinks I'd die? Fashion does not stop for the dead! It'd be more difficult to design the next few collections being, you know, dead. (Nobody else is able to do a collection like me, hmm?)
So I just thought I'd clear that up. I'm not dead, I'm alive. As is Anna, who's finally turned up from one of her many vacations. She's already planning the next one. I'm pretty sure she never turns up at that magazine of hers- they did a Michelle Obama cover the other day, you know. I won't comment on her. "Hope for America", etc etc etc. I don't mind, as long as it results on more Chanel sales, hmm? Cathy (Horyn) doesn't like her, though. Typical.
You're required to register on this blog to comment from now on. To keep out the riff-raff, you see. There were a couple of people here who posted under anonymous means; so I suggest you get an account. There's also a facebook fanpage for my blog (HERE), so I suggest every chic person makes themselves a fan of the greatest designer of this century.
Anyway, still alive. Still thin. Still have high collar. It is all chic here.