We replicated Karl Lagerfeld and have his clone locked in the basement with only one valet. We can’t guarantee that this is exactly what the first Karl would advise, but we think it comes fairly close. Feel free to direct any romantic quandaries to Jennifer[at]thegloss.com or Ashley[at]thegloss.com. Each week, the Kaiser will tackle a new question submitted by you.
I have a problem. When my boyfriend and I first started hooking up, he was so shy and timid that I faked orgasms to give him some confidence. Only, he never became more comfortable. We’ve been together almost six months and he’s never given me an orgasm. Not one. I’m afraid I’ll never actually enjoy sex with him if I don’t explain there’s a problem but I’m equally afraid that if I admit what I’ve done, he’ll feel betrayed.
Frustrated, San Francisco
Desire, like fashion, is a performance. It is a performance that moves only forward. What you have done is construct an ornate world in which you are suspended from a kind of stage and find beauty by looking down at it from above. I do not ever wish to be somebody else but when I design I am not myself. I am not somebody else but I am not myself. It is a complexity and it is what you are doing.
Your intimate falsehoods, I zsink, are much more zhan physical desire, or vulgarity, or base acts. You are presenting to him a kind of character and embodying zhat character and thinking about ze details of her. It is like you are a beautiful angel for him, to be with him, to be frantic and hysterical and also restrained because you are playing zhat angel while not being her at ze same time.
Zhis morning I put on ze soundtrack to ze Fendi show and I listened to ze soundtrack from ze Fendi show and it was performance. Noszing more, noszing less. Last night you were beside your lover and you made him a film, painted for him an artwork, sculpted his desires into something more savage and real. You constructed for him a baroque fantasy with your false cries of pleasure and zhat is ze greatest nobility one can have and do for another person.
What I am saying is zhat your love is a greater zhan love zhan other kinds, most are little more than ejaculations. Forget ze orgasms you have convinced yourself you deserve, you have a right to, because zhey do not matter. Zhey are meaningless reproductions in a world of facsimiles and instead you must embrace your art. Ze human orgasm, it is pathetic, a minor splattering on the wall of time.
Your art, however, your art is a creation.