Back to the "knitwear drawing board"
I think I’m gonna be a bajillionaire if I got a dollar every time I said "Christmas arrived early this year" because IMO, 2007 is a banner year for me. For some of you who read my site after all this time, you’ll know I had dinner with Mrs. Imelda Marcos earlier this year, I also went to a Philippine senator’s house WITHOUT knowing in advance that I’m going to a senator’s house and I ended up wearing a "I Fucked Collin Farrell" t-shirt (oh god) and now, let me add another thing on my personal history books.
Marc Jacobs: "so where in the world are you?"
oh I’m from a different planet Philippines."
Click click click!
Yesterday was one of the most surreal days in my life… it was the day
I spoke to Marc Jacobs on the phone. For dozens of you who emailed (and
the few ones who commented on my site), yes, I have verified that Marc
is real. In the past 48 hours I thought I was still hallucinating from
those happy pills I took a
decade ago but yeah, I am happy to report that Marc Jacobs exists, he’s
not a figment of my imagination and he’s watching you watching me
watching you, j’ai la main Parisienne.
He’s extremely genuine, he’s charismatic and captivating, he’s
authoritative yet extremely down to earth, he makes you feel
comfortable (hallmark of a true gentleman), he’s intelligent, he’s very
articulate and best of all, he’s FUN and talking to him is like
speaking to someone you already know. At one point I had to cover my
mouthpiece and whisper to my mother at the far end of the room "DO
NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES PICK UP THE PHONE COZ I’M TALKING TO
SOMEONE MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU OR THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES
AMERICA". It’s embarrassing enough that my brain turned to putty and I
went into total screaming girl fan mode (eeew) but you know what?
Whatevs! This is why I’m nice to my readers whenever they meet me in
public cause I KNOW what it feels like (and I love meeting them). I won’t elaborate any further (and this is the last time you’ll hear anything) so please respect his privacy — and mine. I thought I’d mention it to ‘get it off’ my chest and share with you all my
little, first-hand experience with one of the world’s most talented
tastemakers and icons of our time.
I don’t know about you but I say continue with your dreams and your
fantasies no matter how simple or how complex or how "unreachable"
they are, because in this lifetime, ANYTHING is possible and NOTHING, I
mean absolutely NOTHING in this life beats the feeling of turning the
unimaginable and impossible into something… real.
WHORES VOTE FOR MY FAT ARSE ON GAYBLOGGIES.COM!
My latest entry there is outdated and crappy because I didn’t have a
lot of time and I wrote it before ‘this’ happened. They won’t let me
change entries after they posted it so there.
I love you all as always. Now that I’m over "it", let’s fold scarves like Romy and Michelle!
Next up… I’m gonna make a video of me dressed up as Stella McCartney riding a sybian! Just kidding.
PS. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
PPSS. And this, my friends, is why you shouldn’t believe
Wikipedia when you do a profile on someone. FYI. Marc’s mum’s second
hubby was Silver. Marc Jacobs was "Marc Silver" around the time when he
was 12-13. To learn more about he has to say, read the recent feature
by the NY Times. Love. Don’t hate. I said LOVE!