Fashion Week is Tiring

Dear adoring public,

I am exhausted.

Fashion Week is quite taxing for me, and having to arrange stand-ins for myself is just horrific. There was a slight mix-up at Phillip Lim, where Stand-In A appeared for a few moments in the same room as Stand-In C. My assistants were terrified:

Assistant 1: "THERE ARE TWO OF THEM?!"
Assistant 2: "I AM GOING TO GO SHOOT MYSELF BACKSTAGE AT DOO.RI."

I, naturally, found this all quite hilarious. Karl and I watched the whole debacle on Karl's new invention: ModelTV. It's a closed-captioned television system that broadcasts via the undernourished tendons and ligaments of models during Fashion Week (obviously, it doesn't work too well after Fashion Week when they all start eating again). They capture video via tiny implanted cameras that Karl convinced them were "the new chic body jewelry, hmm?"

Sometimes it's fun to sit in Karl's closet in Vermont and drink champagne while we scan the modelwaves for something good. Usually it's all "Anya, stop eating the amuse bouches; those are for the fat makeup artists" or "Lisa, please fall down on the third downbeat after you get on the runway; we need some publicity."

But sometimes we get international channels. Usually it's just Donatella on a bender, though.

"JOHNNNATHOHN, PLEESE GET ME MORE CHAMPAGNE. MY LEEPS ARE DEFLATEEENG!"