Anna Wintour has a wine (or two), or: the Met Gala

This terribly demode Met Gala was held once again, a couple of days ago. It's Anna's little party, though I overheard a little bird wondering whether Anna has gone lesbian; what with the model as muse theme and all. Of course, that's if we define "model" and "muse" by excluding those more unconventional muses- Rebecca Alperin, those of Yohji, Rei, and so on- eventually we end up with a very glamorous...barn of sticks who appear to be impersonating drag queens. So it's unfair to say Anna is a lesbian- she obviously has a thing for drag queens, which is fine. Very J.G Ballardian.

I did not go to the Gala because I don't like parties as a rule. I am not a party person. I am more of a by-myself person. However, I feel that the Gala has outstayed the welcome fashion throws out to it: it is becoming the Fondue Party of this decade. Frankly, the only interesting thing about this ball was mon amour, Jules- she wore a dress by me. Fendi, spring/summer, 2009- look 35 I believe. I got the telegram from her around last month requesting a dress. I tried to convince her that maybe it wouldn't be the best idea; that these balls and galas are terribly demode now; it's incredibly vulgar to stage something like this when people are losing jobs, no? Not just any jobs, but the jobs of seamstresses! If there's anybody almost as important as a designer, it's a seamstress. I was just outside the Chanel headquarters the other day as a seamstress sat homeless on the street, her dress like rags and her eyes a vortex of blazing desperation. I laughed at her, because it was I that fired her. I'm only worried about the good seamstresses.

My driver drove me past the gala, once. We were going out for a late night high-collar feast and people stalking session anyway. Now if this was Yves, we'd be hearing about "Oh how I regret not going to this ball of balls!" I, on the other hand, was stuck by the circus that appeared to be congregating outside- what appeared to be a large yellow bird was smoking a cigarette. I heard snippets of conversation: "Where do you insert a tampon?", "Do you think he's straight?", "I heard Alaia had an affair with Anna."

Oh yes, Alaia! Readers of other media will note that Mr. Alaia pulled out of this little ball. Commentors on say, Cathy Horyn's blog have been positvly enraged by this! Yes, because a designer pulling out of a meaningless ball is very enraging! My Chanel, I feel my ice cold blood rising a degree. Nevermind that our Mr. Alaia is a noted prima-donna (much more than Nigel Barker is a noted fashion photographer) , and what probably happened was someone insulted his shoes. You know, a lot of people praise Alaia, calling him a genius and such. Nevermind most of them haven't seen Alaia's work; he's, like, a totally important designer! It's mostly the critics who like him, of course, because He Has Wine.

I had to go to the gala in the end anyway, Anna passed out. By the time I arrived half the guests had passed out, actually- it reminded me of a gas chamber, but with pretty dresses.

Karl is not happy

Jezebel said my Chanel dress that I designed specifically for Anna is "ugly".
If you don't know, my assistant for paper prints out all the new content relating to fashion from the internet every day. I read it all. I see all. I am like God, hmmm? I am the god of fashion.

Jezebel will be hearing about this. The fatties. Sitting at their computers all day...probably don't even get dressed! I imagine them going round their tiny houses naked and dirty, maybe a sweatsuit (this makes me want to vomit) covering their pasty bodies.

If they, on the off chance, happen to be thin. Well, they are the stupid people. Thank God, Buddha and all the rest that there's few of those in fashion.

Karl is not happy.

Photos

Processing photos from Met Ball. Anna wore Chanel that I designed (that's what the meeting I had with her was about). Michael Kors was there; he scares me a little with his salesman grin. Be back later, hm?

Another Bore

Anna chimed in at the party last nigh with the suggestion that I should dress as a superhero at the Costume Institute Ball this year. (She never tends to stay longer than 15 minutes. Not because she is busy- that's an excuse. What happens is she starts drinking one glass of wine then another then another then another.....you get the drift, yes? Her lips become loose. She starts acting human).
I said "but I am a superhero, hm? There's no Superman or Batman now, only me."
At this Donatella started screaming in that horrible voice of hers, "Nooooooo! I AM A SUPERHERO! I AM WONDER-WOMAN!". (Feel sorry for her staff who have to listen to this all day). She then ran round the room pretending to fly and eventually crashed into a wall.

Oh, Donatella.

Anna was still giggling away 5 hours later, when everyone had gone home (I was taking photos. I do like to take photos of the young people.) She was sitting there by herself, in a chair, at a table.
Giggling. "I'm a SUPPPER HERO!..........Supper hero!........SUPPER!!!....TO RESCUE........TO THE RESCUE".
This is why she doesn't like parties.

Overall the party was a bore.