Karl Lagerfeld, Theresa May and Me

Karl Lagerfeld, Theresa May and Me ©

By Michael Casey

First of all let me say that I am a gay dad, I have a Shanghai wife and 2 beautiful bilingual daughters. Before Google and lazy readers get the wrong impression, this means I know about fashion, as I have 3 girls in the house, 4 if you count Totoro our bilingual cat. I’m not Gay Gay, I did have a girl once say that another girl wanted to breed with me, because I had such pretty kids, yes really it was when I was working at a hotel, CPNEC Birmingham. 

I am available for breeding but not with test tubes, I can hear the laughter worldwide, but when you are screaming in pain in the middle of the night it’s good to dream that I could have been a contender as they say in all those Rocky films.

Now to today’s tale Karl is of course an old friend, in fact it was I who gave him his favourite thimble, so obviously this means we are close, I get postcards from him all the time. He also sends me photographs of fresh cream cakes and other creations which are beyond belief, Mary Berry is of course another friend of his. She did in fact break his heart, it was something to do with pastry and the secret signature on it.

Why does Karl keep on sending me these photographs? To prove he has NOT eaten them, he also sends me paper bags with the crumbs from these cakes, after one of his crew have eaten them. It’s a weekend thing they do, they down thimbles and have an exquisite cake and a pint of Stella Artois, Karl just has one small glass of champagne. Photos are taken and posted to me. It’s a kind of intellectual pastry torture.  

So Theresa May will be taking over the Fashion Week and Number Ten thing, not because she wants free shoes,  I do send her my used size Ten extra wide Clarkes, not for her to wear but to remind her Politics can be a smelly business. She puts them in shoe bank next door to Aldi, there is a branch  behind number 10 if you use the back door. She is right though Fashion is great and is a great Business, Red does suit her, if I may put my gay dad hat on. Though Karl might suggest 10 different shades of Red, but I’m still angry with him, today’s photo of a custard cream was the best cake I’ve never had. He is so cruel.

I will have my revenge, Fashion Week wants to find an uncool dad and dress him, little do Karl and Theresa know but it’s me they have to dress. It would be easier to dress Jeremy Corbyn, but now they have to make me look Cool, the Coolest of cool. All the teasing and sending me photos of cakes and their crumbs, ha, now see what they think.

We could just put him in a plastic bag. And throw him in the Thames. But that would pollute the river. We could call it Bio Degradable the New Fashion, and maybe sprinkle cake crumbs on his head.  But with his white hair people will think it’s just dandruff. We could put him in one of your skirts. Yes but he has scars on both legs where his veins were harvested.  If we drew  on his legs with a crayon we could turn it into Amazonian rivers. So what if we reverse the idea, we put trousers on him and expose his chest

He’s as hairy as a silver backed gorilla, see the hairy birthmark on his shoulder. I quite like all this hair, maybe we could add hair extensions.  Give him a new Romantic look. Nobody would want to romance with that look. I heard woman thought  he was really good looking, in the past. Maybe they should have gone to Spec Savers. What is Spec Savers is it a new Fashion House?

Maybe he should just be nude and walk the walk in the nude. Skin is the ultimate Fashion accessory after all. We could spray him with Deep Heat first. Is that a sexy perfume? Yes, but only on Michael Casey’s imagination.