I always thought "Simon Says" was a terribly demode game. It was invented in the 80s. Now it was anyway, hmm? So; let's play Karl Says. Begin! (At this point Rei would bang her gong, but Rei's away playing on Harmonicas she stole from Bob Dylan. She hangs around his concerts, and picks them up off the ground. At this point I think he's given up on caring about who-the-freaky-Japanese-lady-in-black is, anyway. Hedi does the same with Kate Moss's old boyfriend. Can't remember his name. He stalked him, though. Took millions of pictures. Stuck them on his walls throughout his house. Made underwear out of them.)
Karl Says listen to these people: Rachael Please. They're chic, though myspace makes me throw up. So it's probably best if you get a piece of paper, and tape the piece of paper to the bit that says "MySpace" and then listen to the music, hmm? Maybe those of you who listen to "Hey there Delilah" and buy scented candles from K-Mart and are still freaked out my that young man Marilyn Manson, will not like it. (Marilyn's a nice boy. But someone like, say, Sarah Palin-- she really does scare me. How she dresses. I try to stay non-political, hmm? But she- well, she is an exemption. That and Barbie dolls. Barbie dolls are terrifying. The clothes they wear manage to be never ever chic. And Bratz. Have you people seen Bratz? The proportions!)
Right. And there's Stefano "I never wore sneakers apart from when I wear new balance" Pilati.
There's an article in the New York Times in which he comes off as too pretentious for words.
Yves is rolling in his grave. Actually, he isn't. He's rolling on the floor. But this makes him look- how do you say- a little puppy-dog-like. How adorable.
Stefano's clothes are.....wearable for around the house, perhaps. He just should not speak. Cut off his tongue, hmmmm?
Showing posts with label YSL. Show all posts
Showing posts with label YSL. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
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