The Sartorialist might see you today. Look hot, look cool, but whatever you do, mean it.

It's funny how gaps have started to be bridged, barriers broken down. Geographically, and, I don't know, does the internet still count as geography? Is it space or time? Difficult one that. Just that by being on this blog hosting site can connect you to whoever and everyone. The S might read what I wrote. If you go into Dover St Market chances are you will SEE a celebrity. The barriers aren't actually geographical at all, they are layers, and layers of simulacra at that. I don't know enough about all that, but I'd like to know more. It really turns me on (in the head) and makes me think richly and like it matters.

I tried to get into the Peter Jensen show today. Tonight. What the fuck was I thinking?! I knew I wouldn't succeed, but I wanted the truth, I wanted the reality, I wanted the layers stripped away and simulacrum (if they are one) dissolved like rice paper on your tongue. Actuality. Proof. It made me smile and I felt like I complete twat. What does it mean about me that I can go out with bad (yellow and rooted and misshapen) hair and no make up, and crumpled clothes. Can that exist in the fashion world? What made me think I could just roll up as myself and get into a fashion show? Did I think I was surfing above the layers? Didn't everyone know it was Sunday and you're allowed to look a bit cas(ual)?

Just brushed my teeth, thinking WHY it should be exciting to work at the Rochelle School and see Giles Deacon. Why should that invoke excitement in any soul? Some strange success cadging activity. Treating celebrities and successful people as radiating deities of excellence, 'Can I have some please?'. If I've SEEN Shane Richie it must bring me some sort of mythical empowerment, no? It's bloody nuts. What it is though, is seeing real versions of projected greatness and success. It's seeing that these 'idols' are also somehow real like me, and it makes me feel like a small joke.

I don't know what I'm on about now, the lateness has just made me paranoid tired about seeing the/a mouse in my room again. I don't want it on my face in the night.