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.
It’s ‘I Regret Everything’ week at TheGloss. We wanted to know if you have any regrets? Perhaps you feel bad about a too-cutting remark you once made (about Stella McCartney, maybe?) or want to go back in time to undo something you once did. Whatever the case may be: do you have a greatest regret?
Fat Ordinary Girls:
Vat is zhis “regret”?
(his valet Googles “regret”)
Ah. I am familiar with ze phenomenon.
In fact, I am reminded of an excellent German horror film entitled Das letzte Einhorn. Ze film focuses on a repulsive beast zhat lives in seclusion in a dark forest vizhout any luxury accommodations, until ze nice fellow from ze television program X-File turns ze creature into a beautiful woman, by vhich I mean zhin, elegant, villowy… slender. It is even a handsome prince who falls in love with ze woman. However, beink human is ze time she learns of zhis emotion ze Americans call ‘regret,’ and it is too much for her to endure. So ze beautiful woman makes ze decision to return to her bestial form. She retreats into becomink a monster.
Zhat is my understandink of ‘regret,’ zhat it is potent. Zhat it is so intoxicatink in its influence zhat it would make a beautiful, thin, elegant woman want to be a monster so as to… recoil from it. In a way, ze film is a metaphor for fashion, as fashion is about ‘always forward, never backward.’ Ze moment you regret, you become vintage, you fall into ze past, to ze abyss of a kind of irrelevance. A total kind. Fashion is ze poetry zhat keeps us suspended in a vorld vhere we vish not to return to our… savage origins. In zhis way, it is a horror film. In an other, it is… un documentaire.
I have only observed ze phenomenon and I regard it with a kind of scathink indifférence, with a very… small interest. Regret is nozhink more, notzhink less powerful zhan a poisonink of one’s evolution and I am ever-evolvink myself, ever movink, like a shark, really. It is zhese layers of chain necklaces, zhese very gloves, ze starch in zhis collar zhat keeps myself from my monster form… a demon of folly and anguish, a beast zhat looks forever backvards and desires to revisit a time before. I do not look over my shoulder, for zhat is when you die.