+ I have no idea what to wear anymore. It’s been more than two weeks now that I’ve been schlepping the same clothes everywhere I go. They’ve lost all their luster to me. I can’t stand them anymore! I hate them!

+ I have no idea how much I weigh. I won’t get on any scale other than the one at my house. Tomorrow, return to Paris = verdict. Two weeks of restaurants and 18 sorbets behind me… Okay, that’s enough, change the subject.

+ I have no idea what season it is. Amazing weather + sorbets on the run + summer collections = I get the urge to buy a swimsuit and wear sandals.

+ I have no idea who I am anymore. Me, who only likes grey, I want some Peter Pilotto and some Pucci. I can always dream, but right now, I want lots of colors and prints.

+ I have no idea how to speak Italian anymore but I know that here, ciao means hello AND goodbye. That’s exactly how I’ve lived this Milanese fashion week. Clic, clac! Ciao! Ciao! It’s over!

+ I hate taxis in Milan. They’re too expensive, too fast and they never take you where you want to go. I’ll never stop mouthing off at them in my amazing italian vernacular, made up from a mix of Corsican and Spanish. It makes them laugh. Bastards.

+ I hate shopping. It’s official. I never find anything that works on me, and then everything I like is WAY too expensive. I’m much better at doing it for others, terrible for myself. Anyone want to be my personal shopper?

+ I hate packing. Especially because I was already over the weight limit when I left and 3 fashion weeks have claimed victory over shopping aversion. It’s gonna be my computer or my new jacket… Or should I just pile everything on top of myself? Yeah, there ya go. Layers. Classy. I’ll do that.

+ I hate my new shoes. So beautiful, so high and so laced up. They tear up my feet so completely that when I wear them, I can’t think of anything but what’s on my feet. Fashion, it’ll drive you crazy head to…

+ I love Italy. I love the style, the refinement and the Italian bursts of laughter. I love their way of wearing color. I love their salads with orange pieces and I want to do my next fashion week on a Vespa.

+ I love taking the train. It’s long and there’s nothing to do, besides watch the blue line of the Alpes = I love it. If, on top of that, you’ve got a giant picnic with you and a cute companion and a bottle of white wine, it’s more than just a trip, it’s the art of travel. Think Orient Express, Audrey Tautou & Chanel N°5: A slightly drunken version, too perfect.

+ I love three new trends: legs coming out to breathe, flats, and layering sheer clothes.

+ I love big jewelry. I want some big jewelry and I want a clutch! My god, what kind of woman of the world in 2009 could live without a clutch?

+ I love returning to Paris. We still have one of the most beautiful, most exciting, longest, and craziest fashion weeks of all. Everyone waits for it, everyone gets everything ready, weeks of preparation, everyone… but me.

Oh shit still… What am I going to wear?!!

Raaah, my life is entirely too complicated. Big hugs, bonne journée!

Translation : Tim Sullivan