Some of you may remember when I spoke out against the cult of Carine Roitfeld, the haggard editrix of French Vogue. Well, today I am forced to soften my criticism.
Sure Roitfeld is the best living stylist, and sure she brought Vogue back to life and blah blah blah, but there is one accomplishment that I am thankful for. And so I say:
Thank you Carine for your gift to the world[fig 1]:
Julia Restoin Roitfeld, goddess.
Oh Julia how do i love thee, let me count the ways:
I love your skinny black leather pants and ballet flats.
I love your simple brown hair and the fact that you never use it to hide your leatherface, like your mother [fig 2].
I love the fact that you are working my future look. And I love the fact that one day we will be friends, and we will trade accessories freely. What is your shoe size, Julia? I hope it's 8.5. I'm sure we could share dresses, though. And for that I love you. Thank you for being skinny, but not in that Vogue way.
And most of all, thank you for being French and thank you for being you.
So Julia, when you're ready to lose that tired hag, give me a call. I see a beautiful future for us.