Miranda Priestly Diaries

The Official diary of the Queen of fashion —
Dear meaty readers,I had a terrible week. My daughters did not stop to persecute me at home, playing all night long Justin Bieber. At first, I did not know who this chubby-lesbian-look-a-like-face was, I could not know if this human being was a boy or a girl. It turned out that he is indeed a boy, although he really looks like a prepubescent lesbian who will drive trucks all her life. But here’s the worst part: they wanted me to put him on the cover of Runway magazine, so I explained to them: “Girls, listen, it is not because he was on the cover of V magazine that he has to be on the cover of Runway. You see, V magazine is for living species with a relatively low IQ, if I put Justin on the cover of Runway, it would be an insult to my readers. Already that my readers are big…” They started to cry, running to their room and played Justin Lesbianber until dawn. Last week, it was Lady GaGa, now Justin Bieber? What’s wrong with people today? So to relax, Nigel and I went to see The Woman In Black with Harry Potter. Nigel told me that it wasn’t Harry Potter, but Daniel Radcliffe. How am I suppose to say “Daniel Radcliffe”? Harry Potter is so much easier to say than Da-ni-el-Rad-cli-ffe.”He’s so hot, don’t you think so?” is what I have not stopped to hear it throughout the film. The movie was quite good, but Nigel ruined everything when he said that each time I took a shower, he imagines that his hand is Daaaaaaniel’s. How… perverse. I have to think to fire him and Eeemilyyyyy.That’s all,M.

Dear meaty readers,
I had a terrible week. My daughters did not stop to persecute me at home, playing all night long Justin Bieber. At first, I did not know who this chubby-lesbian-look-a-like-face was, I could not know if this human being was a boy or a girl. It turned out that he is indeed a boy, although he really looks like a prepubescent lesbian who will drive trucks all her life. But here’s the worst part: they wanted me to put him on the cover of Runway magazine, so I explained to them: “Girls, listen, it is not because he was on the cover of V magazine that he has to be on the cover of Runway. You see, V magazine is for living species with a relatively low IQ, if I put Justin on the cover of Runway, it would be an insult to my readers. Already that my readers are big…” They started to cry, running to their room and played Justin Lesbianber until dawn. Last week, it was Lady GaGa, now Justin Bieber? What’s wrong with people today?

So to relax, Nigel and I went to see The Woman In Black with Harry Potter. Nigel told me that it wasn’t Harry Potter, but Daniel Radcliffe. How am I suppose to say “Daniel Radcliffe”? Harry Potter is so much easier to say than Da-ni-el-Rad-cli-ffe.”He’s so hot, don’t you think so?” is what I have not stopped to hear it throughout the film. The movie was quite good, but Nigel ruined everything when he said that each time I took a shower, he imagines that his hand is Daaaaaaniel’s. How… perverse. I have to think to fire him and Eeemilyyyyy.
That’s all,
M.

myarchived asked: YOU WORK IT BITCH, FLAWLESS!

I, Miranda Priestly, think you are absolutely right about what you’ve just said. Please send an e-mail to Eeemilyyyyy to tell her that she’s fired and that you’re the new her. That’s all, M.

audacis asked: warned you bby, I'll have a cucumber for you tomorrow when I start dieting ~

A cucumber? I feel so much better.

audacis asked: bby, you're so fabs xoxooo having a chocolat for you, try not vomiting while reading this xxxo

Thank you my dear. But… chocolate? I feel nauseous.

Dear sweating readers,I am so happy to be back at the office after the Paris Fashion Week. I am so busy right now that I can’t even update my wonderful Tumblr as you can see. This morning, I came to the office earlier and I did not warn Eeemilyyyyy about that: so when I got into my office, I was terrified to see her and Nigel eating a donut. I told them: “A donut? After the fashion week? Please go vomit.” I don’t understand how people can eat so unhealthy food at 8.30 AM, it’s just… impossible! Anyway. Oh dear readers, I have to tell you how angry I am with a group of retarded people calling themselves “Little Monsters”. I asked to Nigel who they were, and he told me that they were Lady GaGa’s fans. I received many messages of them wishing my death, because I refused to put GaGa on the cover of the last issue: wishing my death is so… stupid. I asked Eeemilyyyyy to make some researches about them, and when I saw their faces I laughed so hard because I do understand now why Lady GaGa calls her fans “Little Monsters”: they are all so ugly. They have absolutely no sense of style, they pretend to know absolutely everything about pop culture and fashion but they don’t. I will need to have a discussion with Lady GaGa to ask her to kill all her fans during her next tour, otherwise I will have to ask all my designer friends to kill her so I can have my own meat dress. I know… this is reductive.That’s all,M.

Dear sweating readers,
I am so happy to be back at the office after the Paris Fashion Week. I am so busy right now that I can’t even update my wonderful Tumblr as you can see. This morning, I came to the office earlier and I did not warn Eeemilyyyyy about that: so when I got into my office, I was terrified to see her and Nigel eating a donut. I told them: “A donut? After the fashion week? Please go vomit.” I don’t understand how people can eat so unhealthy food at 8.30 AM, it’s just… impossible! Anyway.

Oh dear readers, I have to tell you how angry I am with a group of retarded people calling themselves “Little Monsters”. I asked to Nigel who they were, and he told me that they were Lady GaGa’s fans. I received many messages of them wishing my death, because I refused to put GaGa on the cover of the last issue: wishing my death is so… stupid. I asked Eeemilyyyyy to make some researches about them, and when I saw their faces I laughed so hard because I do understand now why Lady GaGa calls her fans “Little Monsters”: they are all so ugly. They have absolutely no sense of style, they pretend to know absolutely everything about pop culture and fashion but they don’t. I will need to have a discussion with Lady GaGa to ask her to kill all her fans during her next tour, otherwise I will have to ask all my designer friends to kill her so I can have my own meat dress. I know… this is reductive.
That’s all,
M.

Dear size-20 readers,yesterday was the last day of the Paris Fashion Week. Right after the Louis Vuitton show at 10AM, my chauffeur took me to the airport to go back to New York. When I arrived at the office this morning, I saw that there was a Chanel package from Paris for me: I thought this would be a gift from my dear friend Karl Lagerfeld, thanking me for honoring him of my presence at his Chanel show last Tuesday, but it turned out to be a gift from this fromage puant that is Jacqueline Follet. When I opened the package, there was a little note from her: “With love, J.F”. It was a wonderful organza chiné black and pale pink jacket with a black leather “Camelia” pin. Beautiful. But when I took it in my hands to try it, I saw a huge MADE IN CHINA tag sewn inside the jacket. I screamed and called Eeemilyyyyy to take it off my office and to burn it, I washed my hands with an antibacterial solution, soap and alcohol. It was a poisoned gift from Jacqueline! I knew she was evil. I have to think about a plan of revenge even more demonic to make her understand that no one makes a fool of Miranda Priestly. And that’s what I’m going to do the whole day: thinking about my futur plan that will see Jacqueline out of the fashion business. I thought about asking Lady GaGa to let me lock Jacqueline in her egg thing for eternity and ask the Nasa to send it into space, but my lawyers told me that would be a crime. And then, I thought about locking her in a closet with headphones playing Justin Bieber non-stop in her ears. That could be a great idea, hm? If you have an idea, please let me know by sending it to me: click on “Try the Devil” to help me.That’s all,M.

Dear size-20 readers,
yesterday was the last day of the Paris Fashion Week. Right after the Louis Vuitton show at 10AM, my chauffeur took me to the airport to go back to New York. When I arrived at the office this morning, I saw that there was a Chanel package from Paris for me: I thought this would be a gift from my dear friend Karl Lagerfeld, thanking me for honoring him of my presence at his Chanel show last Tuesday, but it turned out to be a gift from this fromage puant that is Jacqueline Follet. When I opened the package, there was a little note from her: “With love, J.F”. It was a wonderful organza chiné black and pale pink jacket with a black leather “Camelia” pin. Beautiful. But when I took it in my hands to try it, I saw a huge MADE IN CHINA tag sewn inside the jacket. I screamed and called Eeemilyyyyy to take it off my office and to burn it, I washed my hands with an antibacterial solution, soap and alcohol. It was a poisoned gift from Jacqueline! I knew she was evil. I have to think about a plan of revenge even more demonic to make her understand that no one makes a fool of Miranda Priestly. And that’s what I’m going to do the whole day: thinking about my futur plan that will see Jacqueline out of the fashion business. I thought about asking Lady GaGa to let me lock Jacqueline in her egg thing for eternity and ask the Nasa to send it into space, but my lawyers told me that would be a crime. And then, I thought about locking her in a closet with headphones playing Justin Bieber non-stop in her ears. That could be a great idea, hm? If you have an idea, please let me know by sending it to me: click on “Try the Devil” to help me.
That’s all,
M.

Dear obese readers,I just went to the Kanye West fashion show in Paris, and what can I say? Has anyone ever told him that money can’t buy talent? The collection was awkward, ugly, miserable, it was full of fake luxury, no chic. A collection for the poor. I wouldn’t even touch one piece of it, I could die of its ugliness. When I went backstage to tell him that I liked the two first leather jackets - and I do like them, they were the only good pieces and I suspect Kanye paid someone to design them -, and I just said: “Kanye, the first two…” and he didn’t even let me finish what I wanted to say he started to tell me: “Yo, Imma let you finish, but my collection was the best collection of all time. Of ALL TIME. Right?”. So I looked right into his eyes and said: “You have no style or sense of fashion, that’s all”.And that’s all,M.

Dear obese readers,
I just went to the Kanye West fashion show in Paris, and what can I say? Has anyone ever told him that money can’t buy talent? The collection was awkward, ugly, miserable, it was full of fake luxury, no chic. A collection for the poor. I wouldn’t even touch one piece of it, I could die of its ugliness. When I went backstage to tell him that I liked the two first leather jackets - and I do like them, they were the only good pieces and I suspect Kanye paid someone to design them -, and I just said: “Kanye, the first two…” and he didn’t even let me finish what I wanted to say he started to tell me: “Yo, Imma let you finish, but my collection was the best collection of all time. Of ALL TIME. Right?”. So I looked right into his eyes and said: “You have no style or sense of fashion, that’s all”.
And that’s all,
M.

Dear greasy readers,I’m still in Paris for the fashion week and I just had my first real good day since Tuesday. Since Eeemilyyyyy is unable to take the necessary steps to distance myself from the view that jambon that is Jacqueline Follet during the shows, I decided to protect myself by calling her personal driver. I offered him an attractive salary so that he could not refuse my offer: when I would pick up Jacqueline at her place, he would not take her to the shows but he would bring her to Porte de Clignancourt, which is a very a very seedy neighborhood of Paris. All the worst thugs are there. And from the first show at Roland Mouret until the last show of the day at Lanvin, I haven’t seen her at all: not even at Yohji Yamamoto, or Christian Dior, or Sonia Rykiel or even at Margiela which is her favorite brand. I am so satisfied to know that my evil plan was a success. I have to think about another one for tomorrow. Maybe I will ask to the concierge of her building to keep her locked into her apartment. That would be a great idea, right? I feel so powerful. And that’s how it feels to be me, Miranda Priestly.That’s all,M.

Dear greasy readers,
I’m still in Paris for the fashion week and I just had my first real good day since Tuesday. Since Eeemilyyyyy is unable to take the necessary steps to distance myself from the view that jambon that is Jacqueline Follet during the shows, I decided to protect myself by calling her personal driver. I offered him an attractive salary so that he could not refuse my offer: when I would pick up Jacqueline at her place, he would not take her to the shows but he would bring her to Porte de Clignancourt, which is a very a very seedy neighborhood of Paris. All the worst thugs are there. And from the first show at Roland Mouret until the last show of the day at Lanvin, I haven’t seen her at all: not even at Yohji Yamamoto, or Christian Dior, or Sonia Rykiel or even at Margiela which is her favorite brand. I am so satisfied to know that my evil plan was a success. I have to think about another one for tomorrow. Maybe I will ask to the concierge of her building to keep her locked into her apartment. That would be a great idea, right? I feel so powerful. And that’s how it feels to be me, Miranda Priestly.
That’s all,
M.

dyaphanum asked: I appreciate you a lot Miranda Priestly. I like your style.

Thank you very much for your sweet words. That’s all, M.

Dear bulky readers,as you all know by now I am in Paris for the fashion week to see the ready-to-wear collections for the Fall/Winter 2012-2012. I don’t know what happened but each show I assisted was a disaster: Dries Van Noten, Mugler, Rochas, Balenciaga, Nina Ricci, Balmain… What’s wrong with the designers today? Is it impossible to create beautiful, wearable and elegant clothes today? Am I asking for the stars? No? I don’t think so. And there’s worst: during the Balenciaga show this morning, Jacqueline Follet was sitting right next to me and I looked into her eyes trying hard to make her understand that I absolutely knew everything about her evil plan, about paying the Africans for not telling me where I could find oompa-loompas… And then she looked into my eyes too and asked me: “A problem?” with that hideous and hypocritical French smile that I hate so much. So I grabbed her hair and I began to whip her with my Prada bag. Everything was fine until the security separated us, and moved Jacqueline away from my sight. Since my arrival in Paris, between collections that are terrible and this impromptu brawl with Jacqueline, I feel tired and mad. I feel more determined than ever to fire Eeemilyyyyy for not having taken the necessary precautions to take Jacqueline away from my view.That’s all,M.

Dear bulky readers,
as you all know by now I am in Paris for the fashion week to see the ready-to-wear collections for the Fall/Winter 2012-2012. I don’t know what happened but each show I assisted was a disaster: Dries Van Noten, Mugler, Rochas, Balenciaga, Nina Ricci, Balmain… What’s wrong with the designers today? Is it impossible to create beautiful, wearable and elegant clothes today? Am I asking for the stars? No? I don’t think so. And there’s worst: during the Balenciaga show this morning, Jacqueline Follet was sitting right next to me and I looked into her eyes trying hard to make her understand that I absolutely knew everything about her evil plan, about paying the Africans for not telling me where I could find oompa-loompas… And then she looked into my eyes too and asked me: “A problem?” with that hideous and hypocritical French smile that I hate so much. So I grabbed her hair and I began to whip her with my Prada bag. Everything was fine until the security separated us, and moved Jacqueline away from my sight. Since my arrival in Paris, between collections that are terrible and this impromptu brawl with Jacqueline, I feel tired and mad. I feel more determined than ever to fire Eeemilyyyyy for not having taken the necessary precautions to take Jacqueline away from my view.
That’s all,
M.