Cola Rocha

Coco hasn't had that much coke near her face since...Saturday?

So Uncle Karl's coming out with his own line of diet soda, to which I ask, why the F not?
Does it make sense?
Of course not.
Do people who regularly drink soda even know who Karl Lagerfeld is?
Doubtful.
But you gotta give it to Koke and Carl; they'll do anything for a quick buck.
And that bottle is hilarious enough to warrant a taste, mixed with a healthy dose of vodka, natch.

Honestly...

I've been over Baptiste Giabiconi for a while. I get it, you're fucking Karl Lagerfeld, join the club.
But here she is giving her best Gaga drag and my interest is suddenly reawakened.

Sure, he looks a little (uncharacteristically) mannish, but no more so than the genuine article.
Other icons filtered through the Giabiconi lens include Prince, Jim Morrison and 50 Cent.

Again, in drag.

Why not? Strip him down and leave him for dead in 1971.

I love his commitment in donning drag for Gaga and wish he had shown similar commitment for Fiddy. As we all know, black face is always hilarious.

Haute and Cold Couture

The loss of Lacroix, Dahling! was certainly felt this couture season with a less than stellar showing, with only Dior and Chanel, the two powerhouse couturiers, delivering.

Gaultier was a joke and Sarah Mower was not laughing. Armani and Givenchy were boring.

Etc, etc, blah blah, give me a bowed bouffant and a riding crop.

I expect a lot from couture, a fantasy that I can only hope to attain, so don't give me whatever the hell this is. The queens on Drag Race could come up with better.

Chanel

Uncle Karl delivered one of his best couture collections, replete with silver and jewels entwined with the fabric, a wink to the future he doesn't believe in.

I really want to get married in this. In either look, really.

Dior

Galliano kind of phoned it in, but even half-assing it he's better than almost everyone else.

Just throw in some equestrian references, some lace and a few gorgeous, heart-stopping satin gowns and you've got a hit.

Mouthed and Agape / If You Like It Then You Better Put A Quilted Chanel Doughnut In It

Words are utterly failing me in my attempt to describe the perfection of this editorial. Finally something worth celebrating!! Something that actually leaves me speechless (so speeeeechleeesss).

Sure, the other plus-size photos were OK - but we, girls, have reached epic proportions in this gem.

All Chanel, all blonde, all gaping, all tits, all tranny, all eleganza extravanganza.

This bitch owns everything... and if you're looking, I'm pretty sure you can find it under one of those rolls.

Send Them To Cubby Hole Akimbo

Through the blogosphere cometh another brand new advertising campaign! This time it's Chanel celebrating an AnA favorite: the rustic, rural lesbian.

DON'T RUN AWAY FROM WHAT YOU'VE BECOME...

...BECAUSE IT'S ONLY NATURAL!

Shot by Father Karl himself in Dolly's native homeland of Vermont (shocking, yes), the black and white images feature models Freja Beha and Heidi Mount in a Victorian embrace. Pas très Coco. It comes off rather stodgy, even though it is girl-on-girl, and we'd prefer a trademark Lagerfeld pop of color or two. What will he shoot next? Canoeing on Champlain?

Back In The Habit Akimbo // Thankfully Not Wizard Clothing

Words currently fail us here at the Loft in describing Our Father Karl Lagerfeld's editorial of Emma Watson for Crash Magazine. So take a look at AnA's preview from The Daily Mail.

Girl is dressed as a NUN! A pale-faced nun in Alexander McQueen speaks to us. Nay, it PRAYETH to us and giveth us hope. As do these pages:

Emma conjures up some of the most EPIC celebrity hunches in recent memory. This tulle Comme des Garcons number on the left lends well to a full body, ruffled bend. And an attached hood is well played. The mishmash on the right is, natch, all by Karl Lagerfeld: we count a Fendi layered skirt, a Karl Lagerfeld Collection poplin blouse, and a smirking heave that makes good use of her arms. Well done, Emma. You are fabulous, tiny, and British, so we expect your compatriot to throw you on a Vogue cover sooner than later.

Biting the Bony Hand that Feeds?

There's nothing better than a tell-all book, unless it's a tell-all about someone the general public could give two shits about. Not the case this time around. Uncle Karl's ex-assistant, Arnaud Maillard, says thanks for the memories and attempts to ruin the mystique surrounding the legenday designer in Merci Karl. Apparently, Lagerfeld is a cold, narcisstic cunt who will soon cut you as look at you...just as we'd always hoped/imagined. As soon as we import this book from France, Dolly will translate and post the most interesting snippets. That is if she's not too busy writing her own tell-all about Suze Yalof Schwartz. One word: beeyotch.

Lagerfeld is looking out for you

It's ugly, it's yellow, it doesn't go with anything, but it keeps me safe.

xoxo,

Uncle Karl