Spring Cleaning (A FAQ of sorts)

Though my assistant Jean assures me that it is not Spring at the moment, I'll ignore him. It's Spring tonight. Anyway- I was looking through a printout- on quilted paper, of course- of search terms used to find my "blog." Some of them are particularly amusing. I am not a compulsive list maker, but I made a list. It's a FAQ of sorts. By the way, there was about two million search terms asking if my daughter is my daughter. I won't dignify them with an answer:

1. "Jane Lagerfeld."
I am afraid that my daughter's name is "Jane Aldridge", not "Jane Lagerfeld." Actually- she was recently featured with her mother in that magazine of Anna's recently. I'm quite proud of her. Anna's trying to make friends with Jane, because Anna thinks she is "cool" and "hip"- she's been looking up this "David Lynch" trying to work out who he is. It's vaguely cute, in a middle-aged way.

2. "Karl Lagerfeld no glasses."
You abomination. It's sheer blasphemy to want to see me without my sunglasses! What sort of sicko would want to do something like this?

3. "Anna Wintour Lesbian."
My Coco. How many sickos and weirdos read this blog? I can already imagine them- their fantasies of I, Karl Lagerfeld with my glasses off and Anna making out with Cathy "Ohio" Horyn in a bikini. Sick.

4. "Juicy Couture Ghetto"
Go away from my blog, please.

5. "Women making love."
You know, I used to think that gay men read this blog, but I'm more and more convinced that 90% of my readership are actually lesbians.

6. "Diane Pernet is creepy."
Not nearly as creepy as you, you lesbian-glasses-off-Juicy-Couture-Ghetto-creep.

7. "Don't mess with a feminist."
Well now. Who said I wasn't a feminist? Is this a threat, hmm? Chanel can track you on the internet, you know. I have lawyers. Lawyers carry guns these days.

8. "Does Karl Lagerfeld speak English."
No.

9. "Does Karl Lagerfeld fear someone else can design better than him."
No.

10. "Every woman I couldn't love."
Maybe you're gay, hm?

11. "Hannibal Karl Lagerfeld."
Why hello there, Clarice.

12. "How to make love with the girl of my uncle."|
That, my dear, would be called inscest and is frowned upon in most parts of the world.

13. "Is Anna Wintour a lesbian."
See above.

14. "My heart still yearns for your letters."
Get over it. It was in the past. Move on. The past is for losers.

15. "Why can't I show affection."
Maybe you're a sociopath!

Salut d'amour

"Are you wearing four jackets?" I said to the young man who walked into my office today.
He stuttered and mumbled a bit.
"You're wearing four jackets," I repeated.
He stuttered and mumbled some more, appearing to be confused as to how many layers of clothing he wears in the morning.
I took the very long metal rod which lies behind my desk, and poked the young man. He said ow. I proceeded to attach the hook at the end of the rod to his first jacket, and ripped part of it off. Under it, of course, was another jacket. I did the same to each of the four jackets until I finally reached a shirt, dirty and unwashed.
"Do you wear this shirt every day, without taking it off?" I asked the man.
He hesitantly nodded. I brushed my ponytail.

"Well. What do you want."
"K-k-karla told me to get a job."
"Karla?"
"My w-wife. I mean, m-m-my partner in l-love, that's w-what she calls i-i-it."
"And why do you need a job, person?" I asked as my eyes drifted down to his skinny jeans, where I saw an Animal Collective album poking out from his undone fly. "Ah", I said, before he had a chance to reply.
"A-ah-h?"
My eyes wandered down to his new balance shoes, where his laces were replaced with tiny wayfarers, melted and stretched out.
"Ah" I said again.
My glorious olfactory organ smelt the smell of week old instant coffee, record players, American Apparel, Mexican fedora hats and lookbook dot nu.
"Ahh," I said.

He's muttering and stuttering again. I whack him with my silver cane, which I keep within my tie, and he speaks a coherent sentence.
"K-arla said i-i-if uh, we don't get m-money she can't-t buy her thr-ift shopping."
"So the hipster lifestyle caught up with you, hmm?"
"ALT! THIS J-JOB WOULD BE ALT!"
"Dear boy, I am not offering any jobs."
He then takes off his shirt, revealing a tattoo of Thom Yorke and a terribly filthy chest.
I yawn, as Karla, his "partner in love" comes in. Barry White sings as she opens the door. She screams "KAAAAAARL!", where I duck under my desk at her rich-girl shrillness. I can just feel the walls of my office being contaminated with GUESS and Louis Vuitton germs. Yet, no self respecting hipster wears Louis Vuitton- on her body she wears leggings and a white t-shirt, like a impoverished aerobics instructor. But I know that underneath it all, she's still a rich girl. I can smell it on her.

Golly goose, we got into present tense there for a bit! I feel like Nabokov, except not so Russian.

I leapt out of the window at this point, and apologies to the woman who had her jacket damaged by my fall. I heard Karla yelling out the window, some terribly sad story about her young lover needing a job because otherwise they would not be able to afford the electricity.
"Use candles" I yelled back.

Cheeseboard

This is the transcript of a conversation I had with my dear friend, Connie Wang.

Connie: Karl, darling, I'm having a cheeseboard!
Karl (that's me, so we'll refer to me as "me" now, without the quote marks): What's that?
Connie: Water. Diet Water.
Me: Oh, I thought it might've been food or something....you know, something that contains calories!
Connie: Karl!
Moi: What?
Connie: You've just proved that you don't trust me. Assuming that I'd eat something with Calories...
Me: Non, non, it's just that "cheese" in "cheeseboard" sounds like it contains something with calories.
Connie: HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? I'm hurt...
Me: It was just a simple mistake, darling. Really..
Connie: You don't trust me do you...
Me: I've never heard of a brand of water called "Cheeseboard".
Connie: Do you even love me?
Me: Golly goose, these are some pretty hard-hitting questions.
Larry King: And with us on the show tonight is BOB DYLAN.
Bob Dylan: Man, we're talkin' 'bout a cheeseboard here. This ain't no protesty, hoity-toity game we got goin' on. Do you trust Connie, Karl? Do you trust this chick?
Me: How was I supposed to know...
Connie: OH KARL! THE FACT THAT YOU THOUGHT I'D EVEN CONSIDER EATING SOMETHING WITH CALORIES IS BAD ENOUGH! DON'T YOU KNOW ME BY NOW?
The Lounge Singer: If you don't know me by now...
Me: Connie, I just don't know. I didn't mean to upset you or anything.
Little voice in my head: Yes you did, you sociopath.
Other little voice in my head: You're just misunderstood.
2nd other little voice in my head: You don't even have voices in your head!
3rd other little voice my head: Non! Karl doesn't even need a little voice in his head!
2nd other little voice in my head: Oh...
[All the little voices in my head pop out of existences as they collectively realize that they can't exist]
Sound effect: [Pop!]
Little voice in my head: But we were talking before! I think therefore I am!
2nd little voice in my head: Ah! But are we thinking or are we really just a by-product of Karl's thoughts, and thus actually cannot think for ourselves?
3rd little voice in my head: Good god, are we actually making people think?
Little voice in my head: What sort of blog makes people think!
2nd little voice in my head: Hurry! Hurry! Post some pretty pictures and distract them from thought!
3rd little voice in my head: IT'S ALRIGHT BLOG LAND! YOU MAY GO BACK TO LOOKING AT PICTURES OF PEOPLE DRESSED UP NOW!
Typical fashion blog reader: Honey, thank the lord-almighty-Carine-Roitfeld for that.
Typical fashion blog reader's friend: Amen.
Typical fashion blog reader: Let's go read Karla.
Fashion blog reader's friend: YES, with a capital Margiela.
Typical fashion blog reader: Aw shucks, I love that Margiela-fella.
Fashion blog reader's friend: You betcha!
Typical fashion blog reader: I wonder if that picture-man has updated yet.
Fashion blog reader's friend: Oh you mean the one who posts pictures of men in suits?
Typical fashion blog reader: Yea-up.
Fashion blog reader: Yippie yie yay!
2nd little voice inside my head: [rolls eyes]
3rd little voice inside my head: And now you're bringing up the idea that we can roll our eyes even though we're defined as "voices"
Little voice inside my head: Let's just all kill ourselves.
2nd little voice inside my head: [BANG of gun]
3rd little voice inside my head: How come we're not dead?
Little voice inside my head: Whatever...
Connie: Uh, Karl?
Me: Yes dear?
Connie: You've been blank for like ten minutes...
Me: Oh....voices inside my head.....
Connie: NOW YOU'RE IGNORING ME! YOU ASSUME I'LL EAT FOOD AND THEN YOU IGNORE ME?!!! "VOICES INSIDE YOUR HEAD". YEAH RIGHT....
Tui man: Can we take that one?
Me: No, really, I do really have voices inside my head...
Connie: Ugh. Karl....
Girl Who Calls Everybody Lover: It's always foodtime somewhere in the world...
Me: I know, mon amour, I know. It sickens me to the core. The very core of my being. EVERY MORNING, I wake up and there...bang! The thought comes to me, hmm? The fact that PEOPLE ARE EATING FOOD, SOMEWHERE. I feel the need to vomit- but I haven't eaten in decades- so I sketch. And I sketch some more. And I sketch even more than that. And I try and get rid of this feeling inside of me.....this feeling that knows that somebody's eating. It could be your grandma; it could be Michelle Obama, it could be Anna...actually, no. But it could be some homeless guy in Italy. Every-damn-quilted-second there is somebody eating. I can't do anything about it. It just goes on and on and on, and people CONTINUE eating like they need it to survive or something...

"Your Blog is Getting Boring"

"Your Blog is Getting Boring" read a comment on one of my blog posts, earlier today.
I do say read because you must remember that this blog is, like fashion, a totalitarian dictatorship. I do not tolerate dissenters.

I imagine the person is a teen fashionista. She probably has a Marc Jacobs bag that her mommy paid $2000 for, and a Juicy Couture sweatsuit and a Versace jacket with "VERSACE" written in large print on the back, just so you know it's Versace. She probably keeps the price tags on everything, just so she can remember exactly how much mommy paid for this piece of "tacky" fashion. In short, this person is a fashion victim, 1st class.

I should be applauding her, of course. Because along with her Marc Jacobs bag I'm sure she owns a Chanel bag; one of the ones I designed badly on purpose to see what stupid sort of people would buy them. She's given me money! So, thankyou; ugly and demode fashionista for giving Uncle Karl some money.

She has a blog, of course. Where she posts pictures of herself in a blazer and leggings everyday. EVERY SINGLE DAY she posts pictures of herself in leggings and a blazer; saying "oh, how original I am." She then tries to emulate my daughter Jane and buys some shoes; apart from her shoes are tacky and bright pink and made in China. She then looks at Jane's blog and says "WHY DON'T I GET ALL THOSE HITS", goes and complains to mommy and mommy buys her some Louis Vuitton flip flops.

Worst of all, this person enjoys McDonald's.

"Are you FASHION?"

I was talking to some demode fashion person today, and when they dared to criticize the new Chanel bags I said:
"Are you fashion?? Are you enough of a whore to buy this bag? ARE YOU?"
And she looked at me a little weirdly. Hmm.
"YOU KNOW, HAVING WHAT IT TAKES TO PULL OFF A BAG THAT CHEAP TAKES SKILL. DO YOU HAVE THAT SKILL?"
And she started to back away.
"ARE YOU GETTING WET OVER THE THOUGHT OF BUYING THIS CHANEL BAG?"
Then she started to dial on her Dior cell phone.
"ARE YOU A FASHION WHORE?"
And then she put the Dior cell phone up to her ear.
"Do you try hard enough? Do you fawn over my daughter enough? Have you left 10 million comments on her posts? Have you!? Do you love her? Do you want to be her? Do you read all those hip little magazines that I eat and lick their contents and buy everything that's in them?
Do you take fashion seriously? You know, fashion is serious business. Really serious. Do you weigh under 50 kgs? Are you an anorexic? Bulimic? Good lord, you're not 51 kgs are you??!"
She had her mouth open at this point. Needs dental work.
"Do you, or do you not; take this here Chanel bag that's actually a joke to be your boyfriend?"
She started trying to say something here.
"Will you sleep with this Chanel bag, will you dress for this Chanel bag? Are you fashion enough?"
She was kind of shaking violently.
"Why, where are you Rayban Wayfarers (TM)? You want to be a good hipster, don't you?"
She started to fumble in her purse whilst still shaking.
"Are those FAKE RAYBANS I see? Do you think that's very fashion there?"
She got down on her knees.
"I don't think YOU are very FASHION, hmmmm?"
"Please Karl, have mercy."
"Why couldn't you behave like a good little tool, hmmm?"
"I-I-I..."
"There is no "I" in fashionista apart from the two that are there! Prepare for punishment, you fake you!"

And then I had a nice drink of Diet Coke.

This is not satire

Rei's very annoyed at some of you people, you know. She's been smashing plates all over the place; how demode. She even deleted her post. Somebody said it wasn't "amusing", hmm? What do you people think this is? An amusement blog?A humor blog? Satire, maybe? Gosh.
This is Karl Lagerfeld's Guide to Life, and it is very serious, hmm? Very serious. I am not joking around with this. It is a serious guide to life. I don't know what some people are thinking...saying it's "amusement". It's bizarre, no?

So. This very serious blog is not in fact, racist. That's a very serious allegation, right there. All we (and it is we) are trying to do is to make the world a slightly less demode place by use of my chic instructions. I have never, ever, made a joke here and never will. This is not a joking matter; life, hmmm?

However. We shall give you one last chance. Please imagine that sentence in my thickest German accent possible. For the tools that read this blog; go away. You are demode. There's only a few of you but if you can't take a guide to life seriously, and IT IS SERIOUS (see: I even wrote it in caps to show how serious it is), you should go look at Anna's little magazine.

This is not satire. I am not joking, hmmm?

Gosh. Emotional whores. Gross.

Fake people

See this.
I'm going to give these people who criticize me in the comments the privilege of my criticism. Lucky people, hm?

One person writes: "I don't get these. And, why are the magnets available in 100 packs? Who wants 100 of these things?"
Darling, you are obviously poor and bourgeois. We rich people prefer to buy things as little as magnets in 100 packs because our houses (and we have multiple ones) are so big that one or two simply will not do. It is beyond.

"Poptart" writes: "I must be turly elegant---I can indeed refuse all of this stuff !!!"
Has nobody told this women that being a tart is so 70's? No dear, you are not elegant. You cannot afford all of this stuff, or any of it.
(And it's "truly", rather than the fairground-ride-sounding "turly".)

"revolution9" who I assume to be a Beatles fan, and one of the tacky t-shirt wearing ones at that who weren't chic enough for the mosh pit and had to stay and home making brownies with their mother writes:
"So a blind guy is supposed to make you consume less?... by purchasing this product?"
Dewdrop, I am not blind. If you do not get the Margiela reference you're obviously..below the audience I design for.
If we revealed my eyes though, even on a mere 2D picture, you would be burnt. Remember this.

"J", who is obviously not as chic as "little J" off Gossip Girl says:
"Either the producers of such crap are stupid, or they think we are."
No my little toilet cubicle, we just assume you're rich. I did an H&M line for people like you-- the poor, the homeless.

Finally, "amiencc" writes:
"A photograph, a little bit of fiddling in Photoshop, and I can recreate this same image, on the same product, for 1/3 of what this person wants. A $25 mug? $40 for magnets? With an image that no one would get? BWAH HA HA HA!!! Who would buy this??"
My minuscule glass of Diet Coke, I would not dare to do that. I have these people called "Lawyers".

What I think is that these women are all lonely housewives; middle-aged; with bad stringy hair and bags under their eyes. It figures.

I am Karl Lagerfeld and you are not.

Lots of Love to myself, hm?
xoxox

Christian Siriano

Christian Siriano. Your clothes hurt my eyes. Please stop.
Maybe Chanel will have to buy Project Runway, and stop it producing more awful designers....designers that create litter.

The 80s.
The 80s!!!!!!!

It truly is traumatizing.Vampires don't wear those sort of clothes. I know.

Rei's actually here with Anna, and they both just vomited.Waltz like a bat Karl...waltz like a bat. It'll all be alright.

So demode.

I'm going to sketch. I think that Prada women is outside scavenging through my bins....

Rachel Zoe

I am going to be honest here: I did not know who Rachel Zoe is until I she started ringing me a month ago.
Stalker.

Example of messages:
"Hiii Karl. Just wondering if you want to have lunnnch today? Call me"
"Karl, Karl hun, I'm doing this this thing at Halston. Um, you wanna meeet up??"
"Karl. I love you. I just needed to say that. And that we should do a TV show together"
"Karl, I really do love you. Every night I bow down to you"
"Karl, are you a good kisser??"
"I know you want me as much as I want you- Karl baby"
"TV show? You never emailed me back? Love you ex-oh-ex-oh"
(Singing. Badly)"I---I loveeeeee yooouuu Karllll!"

And then it got worse last week when she found my apartment in New York and started tapping on the windows. Like, a quick tap and then she darts away. Her eyes, hmmm? Her eyes. They're like that of a model after I tell her she is not the right weight. They're wide open, like I poured coffee right into her eyes and bloodshot and just "rwwwaarrrr". Like animals.

Last night she threw a rock through my window. Where's Hedi? Where's my assistants!

Doesn't she know that rocks are so demode? She can have a free Chanel pin (even better than the safety pin, hmmmmmm?) if she goes away.
Doesn't she have any people? Can't they- go put her in a wardrobe somewhere?

I'm gay Rachel. And I don't like you anyway. I only go out with fashion people, hmmm?

Caption for picture: "Oooooh! I'm such a hippy! Ooh. And a freaky stalker. And I'm so demode"

Rei does like her jokes

Rei (Comme des Garcons for the creatures who don't know) did a bag "with" LV. She thinks it's hilarious. So do I. Can't you just see the stupid people totting around with them!

STUPID PEOPLE II

I have had it with these stupid people!

So I, Karl, show a collection I designed to a friend of mine. (Maybe we were more than friends, hmm?) . And he was like "I have to say that I don't really like it".
He speaks in italics, you see.

Suffice to say he is no longer welcome here, hmm?

Sadly, I can't actually send him some LV bags because he's not that stupid (but he has to be pretty stupid because he doesn't agree with my opinion, hmmm?)

I just- I just can't stand all the stupid people anymore. And I mean the stupid people who make up half of Chanel's customer base as well. "ooooh, look at my Chanel glasses", "oooh, I ride on a Chanel bike".
I don't need them. Chanel makes clothing for the gods. The gods.

They can all go buy their precious Louis Vuitton bags and eat their food*.

"Love", Karl


*Eating is a disgusting practice. I advise you not to.

Stupid People

I am in shock right now.

In the last half hour, I have designed 4 collections, drunk 80 bottles of diet Coca Cola, and paced this room exactly fourty seven times.

Why?

Because a very short time ago I was attacked by a man who called by designs "messy", "and not that great".
Can you imagine that?

No, of course you can't. You're not me. But try to.

I strongly suspect this person is hired by one of the other fashion houses and their vendetta against me. Nobody has dared to insult me since August 16th, 6.53 PM, 1963. So this is a shock.

Need another can of Coke.

I'm ringing up Marc at Louis Vuitton and getting him to send a whole lot of really ugly bags branded with "LV" in big bold lettering to this person. I bet they like LV. Because if they don't like me, they obviously have no taste.

I can't even begin to understand what it'd be like to have no taste. It is worse than bad taste. I almost feel sorry for this person, but I mean, can you even call someone like that a person?

So Marc Jacobs called

So Marc Jacobs called.
I don't answer the phone so I have now had "speaker phones" installed throughout my house, all with the Chanel logo and a self destruct button in place for when I get annoyed by people ringing me up.

Marc was like "Oh, Karl, how is it?" and said that he wanted "to do a collab on a Louis Vuitton project" (the man speaks in italics).

"Oh no I Karl is busy enough, hmmm?"I say.
"uhhh, you know we just put a few options into a hat, and mix them up."
"Yes, I do"
"Why won't you do it then??"
"I don't design like that"
"Hahhahaahahhaha, come on Karl....you must be kidding"
"No."
"You actually design?"
"Yes."
"I thought nobody actually designed these days."
"Hmmmm?"
"You don't use...the hat? Everybody uses the hat!"

One phone is now somewhere in New York. I threw it outside my window. If you have it, email fakekarl at gmail dot com for a fake Chanel dress.

I imagine Marc going "Karl? Karl?? Karl! Hey, I quite like talking to myself."

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.

The Hardships of Being a Designer

No contact what-so-ever from that artist girl who made the Louis Vuitton-Dafur picture. How rude, hmmm? Do you think it's because I'm a fashion designer?

It's hard being me sometimes, I know I look like I'm having an effortless life; but I have to deal with the prejudices against fashion designers that are in the world today.

This, this is as bad as when I when Ashley Olsen ignored me thinking I was just some crazy old man. She didn't know who Karl Lagerfeld is! It was at a dinner and I came up to her, made some witty banter- as I normally do. And she ignored me! She just- continued to talk to some person at her side.
I walked back to the table with Anna "mother knows best" Wintour and Heidi "I like cocaine but yeah no I've never tried it but I like it" Slimane and muttered in French for a while. Anna (oh, she can be so motherly) went over to Ashley and explained who I was. She (Ashley) immediately apologized profusely. (I heard her say to Anna: "I, like, thought he was a creep. Hahaha!" People seem to think I am getting deaf, but I heard it all. Soon after a hideous Chanel suit I designed especially for Ashley was delivered, there's pictures of her wearing it somewhere*.)

I hear my limousine arrive for another party. It is hard being man-god designer these days.

*This is how designers punish people, by designing horrible ugly clothes that people will wear because it's designer. I get a kick out of designing one or two of these items once a year, and laughing at the idiots who buy them. Louis Vuitton, on the other hand, seems to be in the practice of punishing people with every item they make. Good on you, Marc Jacobs.

Chanel Phone

What I really want to design is a cellphone.
Now you see, I hate phones. I've written about it. But today our society is always on the move, and cellphones are integral to this.
It would have a self destruct button, for stress. If you can afford a Chanel phone you can afford to buy another one. If you can't you shouldn't be buying Chanel, hmm?

At Chanel we have an over-pricing policy of 50% so we price a product at maybe 500% of what it cost or so, reasonable. Then we add 50% of that price to that. Our customers like that.
More expensive products are better in their eyes. With the phone we'd do the same.

Maybe the phone would have a few buttons or whatever, I guess. You're not buying the Chanel Phone for the buttons, hm?
It'd have to have the self destruct button, and maybe a few numbers. 1,3,8 and 6 or so. It doesn't need a screen because you do not buy Chanel Phone for the screen.

But it needs to be made of tweed. Can we do that? Of course we can.

The Critics

My assistant for all things to do with paper printed out all the Lagerfeld Confidential reviews last year and placed them in a plastic bag. I was tempted to burn them- they don't matter anyway, or throw them out the window and into the street.

Today though, I looked through a few and frankly I was a little amazed at how stupid the world has become. These reviewers seem to think I'm lonely. I am not lonely. Loneliness is for people who have nothing better to do, hm? I am too busy for loneliness. Loneliness is for those who live in their past. Maybe the reviewers fear the present, preferring to stick with Citizen Kane.

Of course this film wasn't good. I was followed by a simpering person who adored me and didn't push me. And it looked like a home video tape. There was no questions, hmmm?

How stupid everyone is. If I wasn't "superficial" I would be depressed.

For the record, I'm not superficial. I read books, I have a ponytail. See that finger on chin? (they wanted me to frown but I said that would cause frown lines). It means I'm thinking. Deep thoughts.

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.

Louis Vuitton

Louis Vuitton is tacky, hmm?
I see awful fatties carrying around Louis Vuitton bags on the streets, and people who obviously can't afford Chanel trying to see fake Louis Vuitton on the sidewalks.
There goes the fatties, I think as they walk past me (and supress my vommit). There's a few fatties in the fashion industry too, you know. At least they're intelligent. But these fatties who are walking past me are stupid fatties because they think that buying a bag that says "LV" makes them fabulous. It's actually become a joke for us designers, hm? Whenever we see someone with a Vuitton bag we have to supress a snicker.

Louis Vuitton is fashion McDonalds, non?

Even Marc Jacobs- the man responsible for these bags at Vuitton laughs at his customers behind their backs. Well. When I say "responsible" I mean he draws a colour, fabric, and pattern randomly out of a hat. It's a very nice hat, mind you. This is the Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton design process at work. He calls it the "sorting hat".

So here is the lesson: Do not come in with a Louis Vuitton bag to a Chanel store (I have instructed security to bounce anyone who tries to), a Fendi store, or anywhere near me.

Love, Karl

ps. the image is by Nadia Plesner. I just told one of my assistants to set up a meeting with her. More on this as it develops.