The amount of connections that I’m making in public places through my rainbow fake fur coat is getting close to ridiculous. People chat me up all day, every day and I was asked twice yesterday if I work in fashion. I’m tempted to say yes and make up an extravaganza story but I don’t (why?) I was also asked if I “was a celebrity” because I passed by a posh place literally a couple of minutes after Catherine Deneuve left the venue. She is in town for the French Cinema Festival.

When I got this coat in London I had mixed feelings about it, because even in my own standards I judged it over the top. But here, people love my fashion faux-pas and I never expected my awful hairy jacket to become cult in less than a week! It feels so good to finally get understood.

With my blue glitter Uggs boots in addition to the ensemble,  it does hurt my own eyes, but a lovely boy told me on the tube last night: “I don’t believe in such thing as too much”. Of course. He had a blue hair and was wearing blush and eye makeup. He was a pretty black gay boy like I love them. He explained to me that most of his outfit used to belong to his grandfather’s from the time when he was a World War 2 veteran. He was wearing a US army jacket, a natural leather purse, and amazing black patent leather shoes full of holes. All those beautiful boys! He got off at the station before mine and I told him my Fuckbook name as he was stepping out of the train to maybe see him again, who knows? He has never been to Europe. (I wish I had a picture of the pretty boy – he was fabulous but I didn’t have the reflex to ask.)

Also, a man in the elevator at work said about my glitter boots: “Hey Dorothy! We are not in Kansas City any more!” First, Dorothy’s shoes are glitter RED. Second, I’m now flat sharing with α who is from Kansas City, so for me it is indeed Wizard of Oz every day.

On another note: I have to stop the fake micro-wave Mac&Cheese. It is the only free decent food I get at work and I survive on it cause I don’t want to pay for lunch.