Some People Say I've Got The Blood Of The Land In My Voice

I am still trying to work out why I ended up in New York for a few days. Anna told me there would be a whole roomful of fingerless leather gloves for me if I came, and another a whole ballroom of collars. I, of course, jumped at the chance. I didn't really jump- I perched on my tip-toes, looked down condescendingly at whatever was below me, and what was below me was a fax machine and sheets of paper, so I glared condescendingly at the fax and sheets of paper then said "yes" to Anna. When I got to New York I found out that this was a set-up to get me to attend an event they call "Fashion's Night Out". I said to nobody in particular- "but every night is a night out for fashion, no?" Nobody in particular replied- "yes, but not for the proles. Think of it like this, Karl- it is fashion's V for Victory".

"Is there a war going on?" I said.

"Uh...well", said nobody in particular. "People are losing their jobs and uh.."

"They're definitely losing their jobs" said someone else.

"Definitely" said nobody in particular. I said I'd find it more interesting if say, Paris was attacking New York with giant bottles of wine and cheese, and fashion's night out was a sort of defence.

"It can be, if you want it to be" said nobody in particular.

So I went around this "fashion's night out" giving the V for Victory sign with my hands. Somebody asked if I knew Klingon.

"Klingon?" I said.

"You know, Star Trek-"

"Ah, yes. My favourite television series. If I watched television."

"Your favourite television series if you watched television?"

"Well you see, I don't. But I'm sure it would be a favourite. I'm a big fan of men in tights."

"Sir, you are thinking of Batman" said an annoying PR lackey from my office.

"No, definitely Star Trek" I said. "Do they have Star Trek here?"

"Let me ask Anna.."

I probably attended some dinner, though I attend so many dinners it's hard to keep track. Do you know that most people eat at least three times a day? That's 21 dinners a week. I don't know how some people do it, frankly. I try to attend at least one dinner a day, but often these things are so boring, you know- "oh Karl! Karl! Karl!", and hideous sycophantic people who, I believe, inject themselves with preservatives every morning. You can tell if they inject themselves with preservatives or not- if you leave them out in the kitchen for a few days and they're not growing mold, they have preservatives in them. We keep Chanel staff in the fridge over night. Actually, that's why I'm not showing the "Karl Lagerfeld" line at Paris fashion week- our fridges broke down and all the staff grew moldy and out of date. Demode, you could say.

Letter

Dear Friends,

I have to tell you that I have been in a lot of pain lately. I have lost my favourite pencil, again. Many of you may recall that I lost my favourite pencil a year or two ago, and the chaos that ensured around Paris while I searched for said pencil. I looked for my pencil, and the silence told me it was not there. I asked it to come back two times and there was silence for two times. As you know if you follow Karl Lagerfeld's Guide To Life, I try to promote an alternative lifestyle (that I used to call in French La Lagerfeld Diet), based on sensible tenets such as repetitive wearing of collars. My pencil's decision to disappear will be clearly be seen by conservative, pen-wielding types as a lead-based revenge against the sketches my pencil and I used to share. Right now- well- I can't even pretend to be a mess. I'm quite perfect. But, it is still distressing. I have hundreds of agents on the lookout for it, throughout Paris, right now. Perhaps I will go and take pictures of naked young men- that always cheers me up. Brad? No- wait- what's your name? You know, the new one. Italian, I think. 

(Note to self: name all young male models the same name, as Yves did with bulldogs. Hard to remember names. Call them all concubine or something similar).

(sans) love,

Karl Lagerfeld

Homeage

A lot of you thought I was joking when I claimed, several months ago, that Anna and I go around the city stencilling various things onto walls, ceilings, ipods and such. Generally it's the Chanel logo, but here you see an assistant of Anna's attempt at an homage to me. It's not bad. If you're looking for Chanel logos, you need look any further than streetlights in London. Or the offices of Dior, of course.

"Mr. Margiela has Left The Building"

I was speaking to my elevator operator today, as I descended from the top floor of my penthouse to the bottom. I had a fitting.
"Did you see Margiela, Frank?"- which isn't a particularly French name, partially on account of Frank being a Bulgarian who wound up in New York years ago, until I decided he had a particular brilliance at pressing elevator buttons and installed him in Paris.
"I did. Martin came to this building after the show, actually. Drunk as an alcoholic whore at a bar...if you don't mind my language"
"Of course I don't. Whores are a necessary part of society, hm?"
"Quite. Anyway- Martin came here- drunk- upset."
"It was quite a show."
"Do you think the designers of the collection studied at Central St. Martins.."
"..Or Parsons?"
"Ha ha, exactly Monsuier Lagerfeld, exactly"
"Anyway- Martin, you know how he's always looked invisible?"
"Of course."
"Well- normally, the only way I know that Martin's in the elevator is that slight cough he always seems to have. And I actually saw him today!"
"Oh?"
"I saw almost all of him- parts of him were still invisible, but as he got out of the elevator, he became more and more visible until he resembled a tourist in a Bermuda shirt and socks with sandals on them"
"Remarkable."
"As he entered the bar, I heard someone say "Mr. Margiela has left the building".
"How clever of them!"
"Such is Mr. Beckett."
"I heard a rumor too- they're selling Margiela at Walmart now."
"Someone's got to buy it, no?"

Paris

Oh, my little creatures. I've been terrible with this "blog" as of late- frankly, I'm more interested in shooting naked men in Vermont. Don't you wish you were with me, hmm? I don't. In fact, I don't even know why I'm writing this entry for you ungrateful little demode ones.

Now, I see that "New York Fashion Week" and "Milan Fashion Week" has been and gone. In fact, behind me, right now, are seamstresses busily sewing various pieces of dresses together. I treat them to a bowl of cream when they're done, and copious sweets. They're almost like cats in that respect. I don't care if they get fat because we need people who aren't models too, hm?
Cathy "Ohio" Horyn, I apologize for putting- quote: "pantyhose over Milan", but I feel that bare leg isn't very chic right now, especially in this climate. Why, I see that you yourself, Cathy, wore overalls to my Fendi show! Overalls! I recall them as being blue, denim, and very farmer-looking. I recall you as having cow-dung on your left gumboot (dear readers, I can imagine you recoiling in shock at the mention of "cow-dung" on these holy pages), and speaking very loudly about muffins. Actually Cathy, I have a fridge magnet of you. It is the only thing on my fridge, on or out. I bought the fridge especially for it.

Of course, now that the...lesser cities and countries have done their fashion weeks- you know, New York, Milan, Oxford, Fiji, Ethiopia (the place where they put all the poor people); it is now time for Paris fashion week. I will be in my room reading Colette, and occasionally you'll find me out and about. I have a rather distinctive appearance it seems- you can't miss me.

"Live Blogging", Chanel Couture

Whilst the rest of the world was weeping for Michael Jackson with their television sets tuned to one of the seven hundred and sixty eight channels that covered it, I and my seamstresses were putting the finishing touches on the Chanel couture. We don't have a television set. We were playing one of my ipods actually- Tom Waits. Cathy "Ohio" and her hag friend from Central St. Martins decided to visit us, so I had some assistants hide the sandwiches and pies- not to mention bacon muffins, whilst we entertained the two hags. They told us about the tent that they'd set up outside Paris in order to save on hotel costs- I muttered something about Brokeback mountain.

We just showed a few minutes ago, actually. So now I'm designing the next collection. The press is no doubt going to ask some questions about the collection I just showed- they're annoying like that. The hags are circling like birds in a Hitchcock film.

Chanel Treehouse

Last night (or in the morning if you're that way inclined), I started directing my assistant to "tweet" to Madame Julia Frakes- I dictated, of course. We planned a Chanel treehouse- which will be white, and quilted. The following is a transcript from those "tweets." (Yes, Uncle is up-with-the-play! I am "tweeting" like the chic kids, hmm?).

fakekarl I'm going to build a Chanel treehouse, it will be white and have a quilted roof. Care to join me @bunnyBISOUS?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Oh yes! Is Zaha Hadid consulting? Otherwise it may be couture quality- but topple faster than models in Miuccia's fall '09 heels!
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Yes, Zaha is consulting! It may have hot air balloons attached
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl How incroyable- and so Uppity! What shall be the capacity? We must compile our guest lists! It will be nouveau Prada DoubleClub!

bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl What kind of vibe did you have in mind? Shall it be like your Paris bookstore & be our planned book club locale? Or more Regine-y?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS A capacity that's rather intimate- only a few of the chicest people in the world. Who will you invite?

fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Oh, bookclub-ish. Music not so loud one can't speak! We will meet there for the bookclub, yes. And fly around the trees!
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Perhaps we can build it across rue from 50GP- v. private under lock&key in Gramercy Park tree. Maybe Ian Schrager can consult too?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Yes! It can be just across from my place at Gramercy park...near you, too. Perfect.
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Sounds sublime! BTW, old but ADORE http://bit.ly/dOvUt. Now about that guest list... who do you think? Shall Brad man the ladder?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Brad? Brad who? Brad is no more, but I can't remember the name of the new one. Hmph, the cut won't be invited! I am not one of
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS these "hipsters", hmm? I am beyond. I'd like to invite my nieces, obviously, your cousin, Bob Dylan, Connie, Leonard Cohen..
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS ..The usual. And who would you like to invite? Woody Allen? Larry David?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Oh yes: @AskMrMickey, Sarah @coletteparis, Lynn Yaeger, Olivier @purplediary, @henryholland, @dreelovechild, @fiercegrandma...
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Who else? @leithclark, @jaxwheeler, @vfillolcordier, Luke & @MissKellyO, @karlie_kloss, @ITSJEREMYSCOTT, @MeenalMistry, @mwtsnx...
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Wonderful list. I can't wait for it to be built! Add @lavendrdisastr to the list too, as well as my daughter & @ArchiveSociety
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl & now on to circumventing silly red tape compliments of the Trustees of Gramercy Park! In the meantime, shall we daydream details?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Mmhm. Where to start? Which books? Colours, lights, interiors?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl The phrase "building castles in the air" seems especially ad rem. Or rather-"treehouses". Ideas on lighting, furniture, DJs, food?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS chairs, tables? food (that place you frequent- one lucky duck?) (not that I eat)

bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Oh yes! @PureFoodandWine is only 1 block away! Plus they cater http://bit.ly/7a0jJ >parties. Hm,anyone have inspiration proposals?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Maybe some candles, hm? Maybe Zaha could design furniture? Live bands as well as as DJs- DJ Rei?

bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Rei CdG! Or perhaps @AndrewAndrew, @THEMISSHAPES, @samantharonson, @alexa_chung, @STAGEMOMZ, @MikeNouveau, @HarleyJustice can DJ?

fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Yes, Rei CdG! And Yohji has his band, if he's not shy. And all those you mentioned..I might even do some rapping!

fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Heh, treehouses in the air indeed (now I'm thinking of Le Mis..Castle, clouds). Warm lighting- which designer?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl I forget who designed this fixture in my bedroom, but it seems especially apt for treehouse? http://yfrog.com/5koh9j
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS It's rather brilliant, isn't it? Could have vines running throughout the treehouse; on all the lamps and lights, hm?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Achitecturewise, a few notions: http://bit.ly/xuOqG Which do you prefer? I like Kobayashi & Duke North.! Feider & Sybarite= very Zaha
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS I'm quite taken by Kobayashi! It's very natural. How about art for the walls and such?

bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Hm... if Ian is consulting, perhaps in keeping with GPH? Schnabel, Warhol, Basquiat, Hirst, Richard Prince, Haring, Klee, Rothko?

fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Mm, also Richard Colman. Hm..what other details?

bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Colman, for sure! Perhaps Picasso too? Should we have an "executive committee" of members? A co-op of your contributors, perhaps?

fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Mm, Picasso too. Throw some Klimt in there too. An executive committee; wonderful- I have Rei on the phone now
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS And furniture! Suggestions? Comfy, not modern, yet not old. Hm
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Furniture – well the hotel has lots of Martin Baas http://bit.ly/14eJS7 – but as treehouse, added antiques + John Derian curios?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS We'll go antique shopping once you're back in NY (in London now?), yes?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Sounds like a plan. Thankfully – and exceedingly conveniently – ABC http://bit.ly/sm26p is literally one block away!

fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Rei bangs her gong. And how perfect about ABC! We can just float over there, powered by hot air (balloons)!

bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl J'adore! This pie in the sky pipedream of amazing magnitude is ever more stupefying! Let's keep rolling – who shall man ladder?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Hmmm, man ladder- Baptiste? http://bit.ly/2YdmZs Who for maitre d'?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl I forgot about Maitre d'! Perhaps Abbe Diaz?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Divine! I just realized- how will people climb into the treehouse w/ their Viviers & such? Heels can cause quite a ladder palaver!
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Yes, fantastic. A doorman? Who for doorman? He must be able to wear Austrian doorman's jackets convincingly
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Maybe they will need to swing on a rope-Tarzan style to get to the treehouse.
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Or if they're wearing THOSE Prada shoes, they'll already be at the treehouse!

bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Oh golly– the dreaded S/S '09rs! http://bit.ly/fPN4l Apropos of nothing, I think we've seriously confused followers w/ treehouse!
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Heels will soon be designed by architects of skyscrapers; come reinforced with steel. and yes, we have. how chic!

bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl My fave architectural YSL Eiffel Tower heels may do the trick in that dept.! (not veg - a gift) http://yfrog.com/5epnoj
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS You'll have to wear those to the first treehouse bookclub meeting! Which bands to play?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Perhaps Baptiste can swing w/ patrons? Along way we can snap their photos together (like a roller coaster pic)? What photographer?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS The bookclub rollarcoaster! Nick Knight?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Brill! Or in keeping with treehouse aesthetic, perhaps Tim Walker or Wendy Bevan? Though Daniel Jackson is a ball to shoot w/!
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Although since this is a club, Mark (Cobrasnake)? If I were a more dishonorable bunny, I'd suggest bribing patrons w/ bad photos
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Have all four photographers! Position them at different parts of the treehouse, like a crack security squad, hm?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Golly Coco, why not 10 photographers? Mark included. And patrons' bad photos will go into top-secret files, for.....security,no?
bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Oh yes! And perhaps we can eventually make a book of said photos (when it dies down) like http://bit.ly/MJN8T?
fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS A book and maybe even an exhibition, mm? Have a resident artist sketching away in the treehouse

fakekarl@bunnyBISOUS Which bands to play?

bunnyBISOUS@fakekarl Lissy Trullie http://bit.ly/17RzVq or Citizens Band could be a ball! Or my BFF @rachelantonoff's brother Jack's band @steeltrain!

Concerning that Catfight

I was hoping to have a nice relaxing day working on my autobiography (King Karl, Better Than Yves. 7L Press, release date unconfirmed), and then maybe sketching a collection and doing some photos for something shoe-related. But no! Rumor got out of of the catfight between two certain models. Those web logs that people write have posted about it, so hmm. I suppose I better set matters right.

It's a little known fact that many models are world class fighters. Not simply cat-fighters, but world-class blood-and-guts fighters who could knock out any brute on the street. Under what you may perceive as "thin" frames, these models pack a mean punch. I'm serious. With one clenching of their well-kept fists they reveal more muscles than Alber's eaten cakes- there's some muscles there that the Body Part Naming Institute hasn't even named yet! (And by the way, did you see the article about darling Alber in the New Yorker? Delicious)

You have to be a good fighter when you're a model. Photographers, designers, hairdressers- they're all so very very dangerous. Photographers will screw you, designers will screw you over, and hairdressers will screw up your hair. If you're not careful all three will happen to you! I feel sorry for those poor models, about as young as a fetus, who don't know how to fight yet- when they're here for their first Fashion Week or somesuch. Of course, they will soon learn.

My problem with the catfight mentioned- (it wasn't much of a catfight, more of a tigerfight where the tigers are famished), was that it was in public. This is simply rude. Vulgar. Unacceptable. The first rule of model club is that you don't talk about model club.

A couple of blows were debt, a tooth or two lost. Hairs fallen out of place. Once I saw I broke it up. I simply put one fingerless-gloved hand in the air, and said "enough!".
And it stopped. They went back to their respective posses, to bitch among themselves.

Anyway. I will deal to these two errant models in my own way. I will not reveal their names, for their careers don't need to be ruined- I'm actually fond of one of them. But be reassured, public, this offence will not go unpunished. I am not a forgiving man. Forgiveness if for hippies with long hair who ride on donkeys for lack of a love bus. I ride on a broomstick.

Radio Friendly Unit Shifter

Time to serve the servants. And what shall I serve you? Perhaps this invite, hmm?
It's just a little tidbit from the show yesterday. If you were there, you'd have one. A lot of people don't like the green I put in the collection- of course they wouldn't: it's the green of jealousy. Year after year, season after season I simply display how people are. Well, this year there was a lot of jealousy in the audience.

Look, people- you simply cannot have beauty every season. You're not beautiful people. You've all got problems- skin problems, weight problems, money problems. You're terrible and fascinating. You know that, though. You can't stand yourselves in the mirror! Don't you see- the collection was you.
It was brilliant as always anyway.

Anyway, now you can pretend you went to the Chanel show too! Just print the below invite out and you can play "Fashion Shows" with your friend. Put on your best vintage Chanel and walk down the runway!



I'll discuss more of the collection in my next interview with Jules, no doubt.

Rushing off to Chanel..

One is not born woman, but becomes one- Simone de Beauvoir. But how does one become a woman? The answer, my reader, is Chanel. One becomes a woman with Chanel.
This poses a couple more questions though- how much Chanel must you buy before you are a woman? And what if a baby has multitudes of Chanel- le Chanel baby- are they a woman, hmm?

I will not give you some hogwash about the answer being, say...blowin' in the wind. I do not go in for this sort of vague politically correct namby-pamby-wishy-washy-my-mother-didn't-breast-feed-me rubbish. It's very simple: get a measuring tape out and measure yourselves. If you're a woman, it will obviously say "woman" on the measuring tape. If you are 165 CM, it will say "165 CM" on the measuring tape and that is what you are: one hundred and sixty five centermeters. If you are a terrible person, it will say so. And so on it goes. Then you will know your place.

Today I have Frida somebodyorrather coming to see my show at Chanel. I was only aware of this yesterday, when she turned up at my studio. I asked her who she was and she said she was the woman from "Slumdog Millionaire", and invited her to come on in. She didn't look homeless or anything. I thought the people in "Slumdog Millionaire" were poor? She was wearing a Chanel jacket- and it wasn't fake. I inspected the stitching itself- licked it, whispered to it in my sensual voice that no jacket can resist. It's a real pity animated characters can't attend fashion shows- I would love Coraline to attend tomorrow's show.

Saw Cathy at the studio today, too- I was relieved to see she didn't eat anything this time! She seemed hungover from that hack Alaia's place last night. Anna was there too. She's upset about that fellow at that place. Nina Ricci? I gave up the 80's in the 80's. Dynasty does not screen in the cinema of my mind.

I suppose I'll see you all at the show anyway. Tea at Colette afterwards.

Paris II

Paris is almost over, thank Coco. It's all so doom and gloom, you know. People are losing their jobs. Too bad they weren't doing anything in the first place.
Just the other day I was talking to this young man who was telling me about this credit crunch- he was rather attractive, actually. Anyway he was very "Le horrors! I am out of a job! It is the end of the world!" until I asked "Do you have a job, hm". He had never had a job in his life. I think that's very poor form. He would've made a good prostitute.

It's the only thing they talk about here- where's the jokes? (Oh, the joke was the Margiela show. I did have a diet Coke with Margiela afterwards, though. He wasn't actually at the show- I don't know who's designing it now. Some Eskimo, perhaps.)

I just don't know. Who are all these designers? Dries Van Noten? He's a gardener! Nobody knows what he looks like! How is one meant to design when one does not know what one looks like? What about this TAO girl? One imagines that she dresses like an overweight lolita who does quite a bit of knitting. Who's this Ackermann chap? He sounds like a dentist. "Ackermann and Associates" has a certain ring to it, hmm? I thought so when I thought of it watching his show. I went to backstage after and I told him he should be a dentist.

"You should be a dentist, young man."
"...uh"
"No, really, you should. You have the last name of a dentist"
"With all due respect, Karl.."
"Don't argue with me! I'll even pay your fees. What do they go to these days? Dentist school?"
"Man."
"Or do you need to be apprenticed? I can do that too. I knew a dentist in the 60's. He might not be dead."

The people with the cameras

Why is there so many of them, hmm? They're everywhere! They go to the fashion packs, and take a picture. There's hundreds crawling around Paris. I think they're a new sort of species; the take photos of unimportant people who dress badly-tons. (Obviously, I am not so unimportant.)
They just come up to you and go BANG and run away, run away into their little photographer hovels.

Karl Lagerfeld show

I spent the entire show observing this broach that some lady had. It was fascinating. I didn't even see the models go on, hmm? Well that is boring anyway. The collection's already designed! It's just a show for the carnival to see.
So I stalked the lady back to her hotel room. Then I realized that I had to go to some silly show with Anna and co, so I flew out of the hotel room and back to the cafe where Anna was.

Then we were accosted by some horrid person from "thefashionspot" (they actually say the name like that, with no spaces. Is their hardware broken?) who asked us the most dull questions.
"What was your main inspiration for this collection?", "What is your favourite brand of jam?"
(I made up an answer for the inspiration: "The NOW, hmm? My fear of being touched! Superheroes in drag disguised as housewives!)
(And for the 2nd question, I just starred at them. Then I said: "You know your website is the worst fashion-related website ever created? It is so boring, so dull.")
The "fashionspot" person turned out like that intern did and started to burble this and that about "trends" and "voice of a generation" and "Mahler". I think she went insane. She tried to touch me anyway so I slapped her and that was the end of that.

Really, have you ever read "fashionspot" articles? They're like Anna after a fridge-full of Vodka. Passed out. Dead to the world. Anyway; don't ever go to that horrid site. Of course, since you're chic (if you're chic) you'd never contemplate going near a "forum". Everyone knows the real dealing in Rome wasn't in the forums, it was behind the forums; in the little exclusive cafe with the bouncer named "Chuck" which I will admit is a weird name for a Roman but he wore his toga well.

Balenciaga and Comme

Balenciaga was funny. Back to The Future, hmm? It made me hungry, and I do not like this.
And the models looked like they were wearing casts. Do they need casts to keep their thin little legs moving?
By the way they were dressed I thought they were off to a Comic Convention. But then I though "this is Paris Karl! No comics in Paris! They're BANNED during fashion week."
So...it was not a joke. It really was the Balenciaga show.

Rei showed today, too. Plastic rubbish bags and so on. Designer rubbish, of course. When's someone going to work out that Rei's actually playing a huge practical joke, hmm?

Paris so far

There's been a lot of celebration going on in Paris. All these "20th anniversaries". Martin Margiela's been doing what they do for 20 years- Martin, of course, is actually not human and hence why he does the whole "invisible" man thing. Logical, hmm? Of course, someone like myself isn't human either but I look kind of human, so it's okay.
The International Herald Tribute lady- Suzy; the one who Marc has a dartboard with her face on it which he throws cigarettes at when he gets angry (she gave him a bad review, once). The New York Times critc- Cathy someoneorrather- I can never remember their names, they're all so alike- she got pretty rowdy and started yelling insults down the street and poor Tom Ford.
Of course, Tom just wiggled his eyebrows and she stopped.
Anna provided the drinks for that party, and the Margiela one.

The actual clothes haven't been too interesting. I wonder what John's been drinking at Dior; I thought Anna had a policy of not-making-designers-alcoholics? Nina Ricci I kind of liked, despite the backlash from the so-called fashion press. There's only 3 good fashion critics anyway, and one of them writes somewhere totally out of the mainstream. The rest are a pack of liars and sheep who follow whatever.....well, whatever I say it right. How boring!
They're so horribly dressed, too. They think being a fashion critic makes them better than fashion. It's like some of those male designers who are incredibly tan and wear jeans and a tight t-shirt (I wonder who?). Non, a fashion critic should live fashion. Should eat fashion which obviously means not eating at all!

On second thoughts Nina Ricci was kind of demode. Everything, save Martin Margiela and Yohji Yamamoto have been so far. I guess everyone's waiting for Chanel? Again.
Don't get me started on Gareth Pugh. If I wanted bad architecture for clothes I'd go to middle-class America! Is this an aesthetic now? It is, but so are Hawaiian shirts, hm?

There was one show that was very Rock and Roll. Maybe my daughter will know. She is into that sort of thing. The rock and the rolling, the stones and the banging, the hip and the hopping. I am too, but I don't take notice of collections that happened in the 60's with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely hearts club band. These fashions have been! They have gone! I was alive then!
Ah, yes, the daughter. I will post pictures of her soon! It is more like, the 90's.
The 90s, hmm? I didn't even think I had sex then. I don't remember the 90's anyway. Kurt Cobain and all that. He's dead now, ja?

The daughter is adorable of course, hmm? So chic! Not mediocre at all. You will see more of her later. I think I'll tell everyone to destory the Chanel set and start over. Fun, huh?