This morning at 4:30 a.m.*, while you were all sleeping **, I was sitting in front of my suitcase, posed in a perfect Thinker by Rodin, but in leopard print boy-shorts and with a cup of coffee in hand.

I was getting ready to jump on a train to London. London, New York, London, Milan. Almost all in a month, three of which are for fashion week. Yoooooooouhouuuu!!!! I’m so exciiiiiiiiiiiited! Yaaaahhhaa! Off we go to adventure! Yeeeessssss long live fashion fashion fashion! Into my arms Kaaaarl! I know you love me (Karl came to congratulate me for my book on Saturday at Colette)(Finally!!!! My idol finally talked to me!!!)(Even when I told him it wasn’t my book he still told me that fine, it was really really really good.)!!! It’s too much too much – yes yes yo la vie in fashion. I’ve got some fashion weekitis!

Woooooooooh!

Woh!

Merde.

BUT WHAT AM I GOING TO WEAR***?

Voilà. I talk about fashion all day and yet I still can’t put together a cool outfit to wear on the train. It wouldn’t surprise me if my bags are over the weight limit just on account of my socks again, even though none of my clothes will match after I get there. So I’ll buy whatever I can find to compensate. And then at the same time, I’m getting my bags ready at 4:30 a.m. I mean c’mon.

So you know what I did? At 4:37 a.m.?

I purged my bag. I took out all the stuff that was too complicated, the stuff I’ve only worn once but has potential, way-too-high-heels****. I kept all the best pieces, a few touches of color, and my favorite basics.

And thus my white shirt, freshly ironed.*****

So when I saw Lydia, who came over not too long ago to see me over at the Gap pop-up store (I’m in the middle of getting my exhibit ready! There’s a candycakes boutique just next door! It’s COOL!) with her white shirt and I thought that there is a cosmic connection in the interspace cosmos.*****

She wasn’t wearing it at all the same way as me: totally the opposite, actually, but I loved the way she had of buttoning it up top and letting the bottom flare out. But we rolled up the sleeves exactly the same way. That makes for a cosmic interspace connection, right?

OKAY. Off to sleep for me?  Off to sleep for me.

In the meantime, the lesson of the day given by the sublime Lydia: basics are what you make of them.

Ohhh la la. I REALLY need to get to bed. But here, we’ll do this one thing. You ponder the lesson, I’ll go to sleep.

Okay, big hugs and bonne journée!

—–

* torture

** bastards

*** I’m sendin’ out an SOS.  I’m sendin’ out an SOS. Message in a bottle, yeah.

**** Yes, I ironed it at 5:00 a.m. Don’t ask me what meaning my life has because for the time being, I don’t think I’d have an answer for you.

***** Gimmie a break. I got up at 4:30 this morning. I’m dead tired, fashion weekitis both resulting in Igor, Grishka, and the cosmos talking to me. Help meeeeeee!

Translation : Tim Sullivan