Kittens

There's been reports of I, Karl Lagerfeld, getting a kitten, and mostly these reports have been planted by me. I can confirm that they are true and that right now Choupette is sitting on her pillow beside me, as I dictate this post to the famous musician Bonnie Prince Billy. When I say famous musician, I say it with regret because for some time I heard the name "Bonnie Prince Billy" and believed he was some kind of German prince from around 1820, stepped with romanticism, wearing a small felt hat and riding a white pony named Ludwig. Of course, I am not as foolish to believe that it is still the 1820s, but I did believe that Bonnie Prince Billy had somehow transplanted himself here from another time and place. That sort of thing happens all the time.

In any case, I took it upon myself to lure Mr. Prince Billy into my Paris apartment by creating a trail of very expensive embossed paper, much like Hansel and Gretel, but in reverse. Obviously it worked, as his rather un-princely hands that resemble more of a lumberjack (again, Hansel and Gretel- the world is a fairytale) than anything else, are typing this post right now.

The truth about Choupette is that I'm no longer content with the everyday business of spying- spying on people in restaurants, in bistros, in cafes, in saunas. This is how I know everything that has ever happened. I have footage of Jesus being nailed to the cross, accompanied by The Tiger Lilies singing Banging In the Nails. Of course, the music came afterwards. But it makes for much better viewing that agonized screaming and all that- of his fans, of course. Mr. Christ himself looks rather smug. I am drifting away from the topic at hand. My point is, is that one day I realized that all my careful monitoring had only been of the human world. Yes, I know the truth behind dozens of assassinations and the moon landing and whatnot, but what were the ants thinking? What were the birds thinking? This has alluded me, and during my conversations with Choupette, who I met when she materialized one day at my doorstep in a Hermès hat-case, I realized that with her network of contacts I could start to monitor what all of nature thinks and does.

I am not calling myself a Dr. Doolittle. This is simply an exercise to further my knowledge of the world in a way I couldn't do with humans. It is also part of my plan- in my ten year plan, as a politician would say, to build an army of cats who will attach all the substandard fabric in the world and rip it to shreds until there is no my substandard fabric left. All in the ten year plan, hm?