Oh, what fun.

The amount of money we are spending on Karl's birthday party is outrageous.  I feel like we could buy a small Eastern European nation for this sum.

That might be fun.  Voguelandia.  We'd just raze everything and build beautiful monuments to the greats in shiny black marble.  Me, Karl, Yves...  and everyone would have to move, of course.  To get Voguelandian citizenship, you'd have to prove that you eat nothing and own at least three pairs of Louboutins.

Anyway, we have a lot of people scurrying about.  Building a closet in the scale that Karl desires is quite an undertaking.  We originally had Zaha Hadid working on it...  but she kept hitting on me.  That beastly woman.  That and when she showed us pictures of what it would look like, we couldn't determine where the door was.  She then pontificated on what the architectural meaning of a door is blah blah blah.  I had her removed from my presence and then Karl and I shredded the pictures and had a confetti fight.

Karl has already fired thirty party planners.  I am very proud of him - usually he lets me fire people for him, while he takes black-and-white photos and plays ominous music from under the table.

I must leave.  Karl invited every underwear model in the fashion industry and I can't tell any of them apart.  Too many beautiful midsections.

BOYS, COME HERE.  IT'S ROLL-CALL TIME.  YOU - YES, YOU, OVER THERE.  YOU'RE WEARING FAR TOO MUCH CLOTHING.

Birthday etc

Those birthday gifts sound lovely. Of course, I would like a Karl Bear for my birthday as well, hmm? As always, email me at fakekarl@gmail.com if you can provide this. Good children.

I've been busy with Anna planning my birthday celebrations. We're going to build a really big closet to hold the party in. Yves has been moping about his broken heart. "Fall in love with a ghost!" I say to dear Yves. Ghosts will never break your heart! "Be asexual!" I say to Yves, and he drinks another bottle of whatever it is he's drinking. Then I look at whichever underwear model is standing at the corner. They supplement statues, hmm?

Rei shouts "H&M!" throughout the house.

So, that Karl Bear, hmm? Repay Uncle Karl for writing this...blog.

(I gave Yves my Karl Bear that I was given, I'm just too nice.)

Uncle's Birthday

It is my birthday soon!
70!

What are you all getting me, hmm?

No, that is not a smile you see upon my face.

Hm

Her smell was not possible.
"I haven’t bought anything by that designer since my interview. There’s nothing about him that I wish I could be."
No. You cannot be a genius like me, hmm? You shouldn't even wish to be a genius like me. How pathetic and human.

By the way, I was very gracious towards her. She just wants a story.

Reply to Vidal, NZ, and Chanel

Vidal- Anna is loyal. Look at the Chanel tattoo on her back. She would not dare to defy me. Some of my enemies read this blog, and they know how my revenge tastes.
I think she would be out of a job- she works at that magazine place- if she jumped ship to Prada. Of course, Anna will write a post confirming her loyalty to me soon. Won't you Anna (Yes you will).

I love all you readers. Maybe. Well, I love some of you, hmm? I'd love you more if you gave me plane tickets and tickets to the NY fashion week shows. My collar is ready, hm?

Especially the New Zealanders. How chic. Karen Walker scares me, though, hmm? She came to the Chanel HQ once and looked out of place so we had to remove her. We do this to anyone who does not fit into the Chanel look, hmmm? We have a human-forklift. To remove humans, of course. Not made out of humans. No, that would be boring. Plenty of other houses already do that.
We use quilted metal.

I will not die, hmmm?

Some of you are sitting in your closets, wondering "what will happen when Karl dies?"
I am immortal, hmm? I cannot die. Does Santa Claus die? I don't think so. So this is what they at Chanel say when they say "it is all taken care of".
They mean in 100 years, yours truly is going to be still designing Chanel, hmm?

Now- to the post I linked to at the "now". Because the "now" is where I always am.
Cathy says:
"Part of the appeal of the Wertheimer brothers is that they’re so private. I see Alain Wertheimer from time to time up at Chanel—usually after most of the editors have cleared out of Karl’s studio—and you can ask him almost anything, except about Chanel. Horses, no problem. But he doesn’t discuss Chanel and of course he doesn’t discuss Lagerfeld."
The truth is this: the Wertheimer's don't exist. They are played by actors. Clever of Karl, no?
They're English actors who can do a good accent, actually. That's why they know about horseracing. But not about Chanel.
I've said all this before, of course. I own Chanel. But you know this. Cathy knows this.
I do not know what she is doing fooling her readers like this, hmm?

Here she gets it right:
..."and I really prefer not to think of the fashion world without Lagerfeld. It won’t be the same when he decides to call it a day—not as fun, not as intelligent, not as historic-minded. In an era of multibrands and luxury conglomerates, just think what this one family has done to preserve not merely a business but also a way of working."

Good girl.

And then she gives us a recipe for pie and we will just not think about this, hmm? Excuse me, I think I need to vomit.

Oh, and Anna really is perfect. I love you....uuhhh...umm...what is the word?....babe. How bourgeois.

Excuse me, I shall wash my mouth out.

Very good. That's sorted.

ps. I work best in black and white, hm?

NY? Tickets? Where?

Where's my New York fashion week tickets?
Really.
Where are they?
I know some of you have tickets you can give me, hmm?