i took some time to move.  you know this relocation thing is overrated.  somewhere at some point i became a hoarder of stuff; random shit (clothing, magazines & paper) clouding my coffee & impairing life.  in midst of a self-renaissance, i popped a few cocktails; chased it with some st. michel and have become anew.

in this vacancy, my favorite label’s creator passed on to green pastures kicking buckets.  damn.  who’s left for me to admire or shall i become part of a legion of the admired.  (deep).  i spoke candidly with a kindred spirit about yves, his impact, his suiting and his genius, and then we fell into discourse about the lavishness of death. surly talks of how orcherstrated our ceremonies would be.  quiffs about suiting, entrances, exits to invited guests.  so what’s my point?  those privileged to attend my homecoming need to give statements like claudia schiffer… …

beat.  take notes or i’ll haunt you down.  more about yves & our clothes affair later.