It is with utter disgust that I report to you the reprehensible behavior of many of the magazine staff and internet reporters swarming around Fashion Week! Ninety percent of them swathed in huge Russian fur hats, the better to contain their egos. Yes, it is bloody cold here in New York City, but can't anyone wear something original?
Even Andre Leon Talley, my dear, dear friend, who is going to be speaking at "Haute Cou-Poor" next month, had one of those things on his head. Although if you were shorter then me, you probably wouldn't have been able to see it. More on Andre's upcoming appearance when I have a minute to breathe!
I myself have been wearing a variety of chapeaus and scarves, refusing to wear fur. (I actually love fur, but one must make a statement, no matter how subtle.) You can practically get trampled getting around, and the parties--! Mon dieu!
Bucky the Wonderdog has been an invaluable companion. When someone tries to cut me off or push in front of me, with lightning speed Bucky's little head comes out of my carrier bag and bites the offender! Since it's winter there have been no flesh wounds, but he has ruined countless Pradas, de la Rentas, Anna Suis, and such. So satisfying. However, I am going to leave him at home for a day or two...his nerves, you know. Plus he tried to bite one of those dreadful tiny children at one of the shows, and I do not want to get sued. It looks so bad when the newspapers get hold of it.
Elisa and Bucky the True Wonderdog