Looking at things is exhausting.  Yesterday, I looked at too many things.

I dragged myself out of bed in the afternoon, drank coffee, performed my toilet and threw on the nearest suit.  Then I was out the door in a slow motion daze.  The first stop was my tobacconist.  The next was day four at the fashion week tent.

pic nicked from here

Being unfashionably early, I bought a coffee, had a smoke beside some trees and waited to meet Anita and Danielle.  As I sat there, watching  fancy ladies mack on police officers, I was approached by two older women for a light.  They sat beside me and started talking.

What a  couple of marvelous bitches these two were!  Exactly the sort of people you suspect exist but never actually meet.  With catty precision, they insulted every person who walked by, knew the exact price of every accessory and reacted with sheer horror when they spotted a price tag left on the bottom of a boot.

Frankly, I was a bit shocked and overawed at these two.

Still, we had a laugh and the best sort.  They type that comes at everyone’s expense.  They doubtlessly launched some excellent insults at my person, parents and finances the moment my back was turned.  I don’t mind.  I only wish I could have heard it.  There was a lot of love in their hate.

I traveled indoors upon Anita’s coattails, and wandered about the tent.  It was very purple.   She informed me that “Anonymous” had put up another anti-Robin Kay petition. I tried to care and found I just couldn’t.  About the only things petitions are good for is wiping your ass and ones done on a computer aren’t even good for that.  Might as well try to solve geopolitics with a facebook group.

If there’s any change to be made, it’ll come from the usual place:  the top.

I’m told that there were quite a few celebrities around but, lacking television or any interest in it, I never know  who these people are.  Nor do I care.  Gary Baxton from “Fashion Television” was pointed out to me.  He looked familiar but so does everyone.  I’ve probably served him a drink or ten.

At any rate, it’s 2008 and most people are celebrities and paparazzi.  They take pictures and have their picture taken at a rate that would have surprised Princess Di.

Let’s hope they all come to a better end than her.  Something involving tigers, perhaps.

Anita asked me for my impression of the tent.  I looked around at the suits, the women, the bedazzled this and fancy that, regarded my own everyday suit, saw that it was somehow not so bad and said:  “I think these people are dressed in their very best.  And that’s fucking depressing.”

We watched a fashion show.  Some Morales person.  Renata?  By all accounts it was one of the best of the week.  I have no idea.  It was woman’s wear and I never have an opinion on what women wear.  Call me old fashioned but I don’t care what a woman looks like in clothes.  Only what she looks like out of them.

So, while Anita took pics,  I studied the models.

They were all too fat to be that skinny.

Usually, when I look at a woman, even one who is dressed, the experience is simple gestalt.  By the arithmetic of her body, clothing and demeanor, she either adds up to “I’d need to be drunk,” “I’d fuck her” or “I would like to curl up in her lap and die.”    Sometimes I would also like to wither into a tiny point of bright blue light, permeate the abyss and reach some mystical state of ecstatic terror.  Probably in her mouth.

But these women all added up to the same sort of thing.  I’d like to decorate a garden with them.  They’d be  flowers I could hump.  Presumably I would be stupefied by some bizarre drug.  If I ever have the money to decorate gardens with humans, I’ll be stupefied by all sorts of things that I haven’t even heard of.  As much as I enjoy sobriety, at that point, certain behaviors are simply necessary.

Having finished with the fashion, Danielle and I had a quick dinner then attended a play.  These days I’m reviewing the things.  (I’ll post a link when the verdict is up.)  It went on for quite a while.  But I eventually managed to return home, eat some pumpkin pie and have a nap.  I was exhausted.  Awakening at 4am, when all decent people are just considering going to sleep, I wrote my review, watched the sun come up, did some reading and then went back to bed.

All in all, I prefer quiet conversation to all this looking at things.