Yesterday, after a very necessarily long visit of the Louvre, I was so tired that I decided to head to rue St-Honoré. Then, THIS happened:
I enter the ever-sought-after uber hip boutique Collete, look around myself... and in half an instant grab Monsieur's arm, and something like this comes out of my mouth: "Ohmygod, look to your left, I mean rrright, no left (all this in one breath) ittt's Karl! Ohmygod."
I had to flee the store to calm down my hysteria. I (almost) started crying and/but couldn't believe I didn't faint in front of Mr. Lagerfeld on the spot! Non mais....
In fact, I still can't believe it. For these kind of moments you mentally prepare yourself. You go into presentable mode. You know that the kaiser of fashion awaits you. You practice a speech in front of the mirror. You just don't bump into him at Colette.
And voilà! My beyond-my-world moment when Karl was standing a few feet from me, (he even looked up at me swears Monsieur) and my legs were shaky. And my face was red. And ....
Next time, I'll even go introduce myself. I'll let him know I'm his biggest fan. But for now, I'll continue going to bed thinking: OhmygodIsawKarlLagerfeldatCollete!
bottle of Coca Cola Light at the drugstore