Wah, I’m totally behind on the times with my Twitter.  I just can’t get myself to update more than once a week on top of my single solitary daily posts!   Internet and fashion, it’s quite the little romance.  It’s been a while now since all the fashionistas have had a blackberry surgically implanted onto their palm… But now it’s… Well here, listen…

Earlier today, a fashion editor that I just love taking photos of darts at me and she says, It was me who just sent you that e-mail!

And I’m all Wait what?  You?  But I ‘ve got nothing in my… and she says to me, and I swear this is what she said : “No listen, I finally have time to start figuring out this whole internet thing.  I wanted to tell you, It’s great!”

Here above, I take a taxi with a certain Suzie Bubble in the middle of some mobile-blogging, something that even Julia Restoin-Roitfield depends on.  I get to the show where I steal Tommy‘s cupcake and he tells me that he posts three times daily.  I turn around and someone jumps on me asking me if I am Garance Doré, and I assure you, it’s a little weird.

But just wait, the worst is yet to come.

We’re running 12 min. 36 sec. late to the Marc Jacobs show and we get there to see people on their way out, shows already done, because last second, Marc decides on a little fuck you, I’m going to start two minutes early and we missed it because of a Blackberry malfunction as everyone else seemed to have received a little e-mail that the show was starting super on-time, something that never happens, except with MJ.

We’re all depressed.  We see Cathy Horyn with her cell phone in hand and we’re going to go say hi to see what she thought of it.  She gives us a hilarious and brilliant analysis of the whole event, the clothes, everything, and she has already started debriefing online.  This woman is really too much.  We have a little two minute party and the she says that she is in the middle of blogging, give her a second.

We’re on our way to go have a drink with a friend, still pissed at Marc for doing this to us.  We feel like we have the breaking news of the century to tell her (if you can follow, it’s that the show started at 7:58 instead of 8:00 p.m. as it was supposed to.  That’s the news… bah…. okay.) and she gets there and says, “Okay.  So you missed the Marc Jacobs show?”

Yep.  She just saw the complete little debriefing on her iPhone.  We put away our breaking news, frozen margaritas came our way and we philosophized about a show that we hadn’t actually seen, but already knew everything about.

Voilà les enfants.  Internet and fashion, it’s only the beginning.  Tomorrow, I twit, I mobile-blog, I cellphone-ify, I explode my Blackberry, oh yeah, gold star for me.

In the meantime, a few sparkles of sequins and some sun, lots and lots and lots of it.

Translation : Tim Padraic Sullivan