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Monday, December 14, 2009

TWAS THE STYLIST NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS


Thanks to Michael for coming up with this cute little Christmas poem for me. It's very clever!




Twas the stylish night before Christmas, when all through this fashion house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The Wolford stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The fashionistas were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of Louboutins, Jimmy Choo, and Balenciaga danced in their heads;

And I was dressed in my cute Victoria Secret jammies, and cute Gucci cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.



Hundreds of men dressed all in black, with their cameras they flashed,

And I threw on my Marc Jacobs dress, the one with the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But lots of cameras, and more than eight paparazzi, I fear

These guys were so lively, so clever, and quick,

I thought in a moment, where's Ashton, is this a trick?

More rapid than eagles their coursers they came,

And they whistled, and shouted, and called instructions the same;



Now, here! now, over there! and look over the shoulder, you little Vixen!

On, Come here! Pretend to kiss Cupid! Oh, give us a twirl and do a split-zen!

To the top of the head! to the tip of the toe!

Now flash away! flash away! flash away all!


Baffled and Confused, I didn't know if I should be flattered or cry,

But before I could blink, I realized they weren't after me, they were after the big guy!

So up to the house-top the paparazzi they flew,

To capture photos of the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.



And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I glanced at my Cartier watch on my hand, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.



He was dressed all in faux fur, and Prada from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were clean, he avoided the ashes and soot;

A bundle of fashion finds he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a fashion maven just opening his Louis Vuitton pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled like Clooney.

His dimples like Mario Lopez., how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The beautiful red rose that he held tight in his teeth,

And the Tiffany ornaments; he began to decorate the wreath;

He had a GQ face and a dark tan, that was fake

His cute lil body shook, like Kelis's "Milkshake".



He was handsome and dapper, a right jolly old man,

And I laughed when I saw him, he was such a ham;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;



He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings with stylish goodies; then turned with an erk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,

'Have a Stylish Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!'

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