Monday, May 24, 2010
Elle est aliénée ?
She's gone mad! What is wrong with her? Look at me! Just look at me! I'm so furious I could spit Cartier bracelets. She is making me wear this petite fille dress. Hmmm, actually, this looks a little flirty on me. Is she trying to ruin my career? I will be the laughing stock of Paris if any pictures make it to the fashion houses in Europe. I won't even be able to land a Victoria Secret's job.
Do you know what this is? Quilting cotton! Mon Dieu! We use this on our beds in Paris, not wear it. Do you think her client is getting upset with the delays? She has a very important function to wear that silk to and this designer keeps dragging her feet. I keep asking her why we can't move this gig along. She tells me that she needs to make something for Kayla. Kayla, Kayla, Kayla. That is all I ever hear. I'd like to, I'd like to, well, I'd like to meet her on the playground and show her who the real diva is! I know that there is Italian silk in the atelier. But what does she do, waste her time on clothing for that little Punky Brewster girl.
What is so amusing is that she has a Vogue magazine sitting around. Like what for? Do you see anything Prada in this place? I think not. Look at the tag in the shirt. You buy this at a place called Wal-Mart. What kind of couture house in Paris sells their clothing next to cantalopes? She should stick to reading American Girl magazines if that's who she is going to design for.
To make matters worse, I think I've gained weight since I moved in three months ago. I can't see my feet. They have these little addicting cheese blobs around here called curds.