Seasons Greetings My Fucking Ass

and a Joyeux Noel to you too from my John Galliano-ed oversized wool & cashmere twinset (tank + cardigan) covered ass.


Believe it or not, even some of the world’s most fabulous clothes aren’t enough to cheer a lonely little girl like me on Christmas Eve.

(What I need is a fucking Vacheron Constantin watch and a Boucheron necklace. I’m kidding.)

I mean, it’s almost 9PM and I’m all alone.

In my hotel room.

Isn’t it sad? I thought I’d have a good ol’ grand Christmas in Paris.

I’m soooo fucking homesick!!!!!!!!!

Not even Kate Moss can keep me company.


I miss the third world.

I miss my familia de horreur.

I even miss my mom’s annual Christmas drama and her (or should I say the maid’s) Christmas chicken noodle soup – it’s been a family tradition to have chicken noodle soup on Christmas Eve.

I miss being dragged to the church for Christmas Mass by my father. Heck, Christmas is the only time I’ll go to church – to thank God for all the blessings, to ask God for MORE blessings aka more Chanel.

I spent the entire afternoon walking around Paris. I ended up spending an awful amount of time at Fauchon, buying edible presents – chocolates, tea, more chocolates, more tea, foie gras, pate, jam, preserves etc.


God knows how I’m gonna carry all of them home.

I don’t need empty suitcases.

What I need is a miracle.

I think I’m going to start packing my shit.

I know all of you are having fancy schmancy Christmas dinners and gift opening ceremonies with your respective families.

I have one thing to say.

Fuck each and every one of you.

Because I know I won’t have that 10 extra pounds to lose by 2006.



Merry Christmas and Seasons’ Greetings. I love you all.