Russian Sailor Hat
As much as I want to tell you all that a hot, tall, blond, well-hung Russian sailor gave me my hat in exchange for a blowjob, sadly it is not the case because I bought it for like $10 from a souvenier stall during a recent trip to St. Petersburg.
I wore it to Dunhill in Paris where, after the show, I shared a ciggie with good ol' Nicola Formichetti. I always have the most interesting conversations with him. This time around he asked when I'm visiting the USA next and whether I've been to a Lady Gaga concert. I told him I've never been to a Lady Gaga concert because it's so hard to get tickets and the good seats always get sold out quickly. Well, no tickets, no problem. Just give him a buzz and I'll be a guest of Gaga. Natch! Now all I need to do is wear hooker boots and a thong. I kid, I kid.
Gaga aside, I have nothing but sheer admiration for Nicola's talent. He is truly one of the most inspirational and creative people I know. One of my dreams in life is to get the Formichetti treatment. Can you imagine what I'd look like (and the sort of pictures as a result) if he strip me stark bollock naked, give me a makeover (I'm not talking Clueless Cher and Tai makeovers), style me into a real-life fashion editorial and made me werq like the rent is due tomorrow? One can only wish.
Meanwhile, I wore the same hat at the New York, New York party I co-hosted at the legendary Parisian club, Le Montana.
Do you like my hair?