When I told y’all that I was on Twitter, I warned you that I had a limited number of topics to tweet about, with a favorite being “I can’t sleep.”
Not long ago, after I tweeted an insomnia complaint, gorgeous blogger Gnarlitude Jen tweeted back a quote from former Gucci designer Tom Ford: “Bedtime ritual: take bath, turn off TV, lay awake for 6-7 hours. Get up.” I loved this quote. It made me feel like Tom Ford and I should be best friends. I thought that if we were best friends, maybe Tom Ford would turn the TV back on and we would watch the 2 a.m. Law & Order Special Victims Unit together and email each other about it. I would write, “Tom Ford, don’t u agree that Ice-T and Richard Belzer deserve more screen time?” And he would write, “How did u get my email? I’m blocking u. Also, stop calling me ‘Tom Ford,’ u crazy bitch.” And I would write, “LMAO, Tom Ford!”
My fantasy world was shattered when I remembered that before designer Marc Jacobs made it his No. 1 goal in life to bother me with his nudity, Tom Ford bothered me with HIS nudity.
I think Tom Ford has a very perky derriere, but I prefer my fashion designers to be fully clothed at all times. I also prefer my pharmacist, dog groomer, dentist and corner drug addict to be fully clothed when I’m around. I’m the opposite of the PETA ads: I’d rather you wear fur than go naked.
Tom Ford designed Saint Laurent’s namesake line from 2000 to 2003. Saint Laurent said of his successor, “The poor guy does what he can.” Perhaps he was referring to nekkid pictures, as well as clothing design. Hmm. Anyway, if you are a fashion designer about to strip for a photo shoot, my advice is to ask yourself, “Is my name Yves Saint Laurent?” If the answer is no, please do not disrobe.
Speaking of inappropriate nudity, one winter I was in a cab and drove past a naked dude trying to dig up a sidewalk tree with his bare hands. He looked like he might catch a bad cold, so I called 911. I didn’t mind that the 911 operator asked me if I was “the patient.” Maybe I sound like a naked man on the phone. Who knows? I could also put up with the fact that she kept asking me the man’s age even though I told her I was in a cab and he was two, three, four blocks away by now (Even if I were closer, what was I supposed to do? Count the rings on his penis? I think that only works with tree trunks.) I did mind that she transferred me without warning, and after I listened to a lot of static and weird clicks, I had to tell the same story to a fireman, including the fact that I was not the patient and that the patient’s age was unknown. After I clarified everything, the fireman was silent. Trying to keep the converstion going, I helpfully said, “I’m worried that the man might be having a psychotic episode.” And the fireman sarcastically replied, “Ya THINK?!?”
No good deed goes unpunished.