Sunday, August 22, 2010

Heart Of Gold

Dear Friends,

I suppose I should apologize for the long wait for details of my Heartbreaking Romantic Affairs. I’m not going to, of course- you all already knew that punchline. Instead, I’m going to tell you about what I’ve been doing lately, then I’m going to address that pesky pencil- who now calls itself “Le Crayon”, believe it or not. I’m not a complicated kind of man, hm? I call a Faberge egg a Faberge egg. There’s no pretentions about it, hm? It’s plain, unadorned, and simple. It is not hard to understand. I don’t understand people who pretend to be something else- it’s a bore. You know, I’m over this whole “relationship” business anyway- I don’t need a pencil. I can just project drawings onto the paper. I simply have to look at the paper, and beautifully drawn lines will appear on the paper. Then I glare at the paper some more and the lines are filled in and everybody says “brava!” when I show them the sketches at dinner that night.

I find this to be a much more elegant solution- the pencil thing was a mere formality, something I did for the cameras, really. It is like the queen wearing her crown, or Hitler carrying a gun. Darth Vader using a light saber. Madonna using her voice during concert (everybody knows that Madonna can just think what she wants to sing, and it comes out of the speakers.) But we are in a new era, here- we are in the two thousand and tens. From now on, I shall merely glare. The oppressive pencil-owner relationship is a thing of the past. Really, readers- how many times have you heard someone say “I love it when my pencil gives me cuddles”, or “I want to live with my pencil”. It sickens me. It makes me want to pull out the collars that I’ve swallowed over the years from my throat and toss them at the homeless people on the street- the disgusting homeless people- and then proceed to the parks where people clasp their pencils in their hands and throw my Faberge eggs at them (well, that’s how Russian royalty does an egging). From now on I am not even a one-pencil-man. I abstain. I am a one-man man. I date Karl Lagerfeld, and only Karl Lagerfeld. Even my mirror image is not authentic enough- sure, he’s as good looking as I am, but does he have the quick wit? And I am currently auditioning my shadow on being part of myself. I am very, very serious about this one-man man business, you see. If my shadow is not good enough, I will chop it off with a pair of scissors from the atelier.

In any case- here is the letter from the so-called “Le Crayon”. I screw my nose up to it. In fact, I screw my nose up to all this “couples” nonsense. Pencils and their owners disgust me. Rei Kawakubo does not have a pencil. Nor do I. 

Dearest K,

My thoughts of our Oompa Loompa massacres brought a tear to my metallic embellishments. you know this is not personal. You have always been the one pushing me to the side of your pocket, away from your heart. Do you remember when you snapped three pencils in front of me, to show me what would happen if I didn't perform? Do you remember the week I spent in the bottom of a Vuitton bag in punishment for a less than perfect collection?

You threatened to leave me after you lost all your weight. You told me you were now fit enough to carry around a million of me, that you didn't need me anymore. I put up with a lot from you, K. I stuck with you through fat and thin - it... it almost hurts that you wish me to be ground down to a stub.

It was you who left me at the Four Seasons after cola with Anna. I waited for hours for you. Then, Vivienne found me. I was a mess, I tell you. I had rolled under a table and I was covered with dust and stray hairs. I was almost down the drain before I caught her eye.

Anyway, I'm over that now. Vivienne, she just cares for me. She wraps me in her hair when she's not using me. I can get lost in there for hours. She chews on me when she's thinking - she even writes letters with me, letters. When was the last time you wrote a letter, K?

It is early here, I can hear Vivienne calling. She must have woken up.

Salut K,

Le Crayon


Anonymous said...

Lovely post.

Pink said...

hi, i just accidentally visited your blog... very nice post though

Karl is really my fav designer and i met him once at Colette in Paris...i asked him twice for the photos but unfortunately he didnt answer me... mayb he was not in the mood:'-( really wanna meet him again huhh

i also have a blog, pls check it out

jayponko said...

you can always have baptiste giabiconi karl :)

Anonymous said...

These pencils, they are so fickle. It is really better to be alone.

Uncle Karl, I love your blog.

StyleNonsense said...

So Sorry, About Your Pencil. He'll Return!!
Following You!

The Little Dust Princess said...

I love this post.

The Pencil said...

How dare you throw my Faberge eggs at pencils in the park! I told you that I would be by later this week. You never listened to me and I should have expected that some things never change.

And of course Rei has a pencil. He is a Tombow*. You met him at Rei's birthday party last year. Not that you would remember. You never remember! You never truly care! And you say you are surprised when I left you!

It's over! Never contact me again!


vidal.wu said...

Attachment is demode anyways.

michael said...

Oh boy will someone snap that pencil in half so Uncle Karl can get back to educating us...

jayponko said...

cheap graphite

Veronika Sereikaite said...

I love your blog! when I'm in a bad mood I always check up your blog beacuse it cheers me up!

vdechiazza said...

damn it karl!
enough already!
i've had it up to here
with your hiatus
couldn't you leave it alone...

Anonymous said...

aww no, your pencil! btw I adore this blog, a lot. Brilliant :)

Fury said...