On Wednesday evening, a handful of tall Bimbos, sitting in the stands of the football stadium, located in the county of Greater Manchester, were waiting for the next day’s show. Did she know that the venue, built in 1909, is the home of Manchester United? This stadium was destroyed by German bombings during the Second World War, when Mademoiselle Chanel slept with a Wehrmacht officer. We prefer the memory of her affair with Hugh Grosvenor, the region’s second Duke of Westminster and the richest man in Britain, which reminds us that Coco was already very international.

This year, after Dakar, Chanel chose the black of Coke from Manchester, a mining town. For Haute Couture Bimbos, a shock of cultures contrasts with the destinations of yesteryear: heavenly beaches and champagne galore. For me it will be a wetsuit jacket in my Rimowa. Thank you Lord, and I’m taking the “Poudlard Express” for a Métiers d’Art parade which is ultimately a return to basics, because the city in the 19th century was driven by the textile industry where half of the world’s cotton passed through its factories. ; triangular slave trade obliges.

And yes ! Fast Fashion is where it was invented, or when the perfidious Albion, more alluvium today, sweeps over the “Côte d’Azor” and makes clothes sink like the Titanic. My neighbor’s “Dog”, a “Chi Whouaf Whouaf” dressed in Chanel, masturbates on my leg shamelessly. Hopefully the mistress won’t have the same idea about me, because her nails are so long and sharp that I’ll end up a eunuch before the end of the evening.

President Pavlova must not have studied the terrain because the only store here that sells Chanel is an obscure Selfridges & Co. But, no matter, he will tell us, the birthplace of the Beatles for crafts, this makes sense. Only he will understand, because the group was born in Liverpool.

In the front row, Hugh Grant watched from his dungeon and was accompanied by his Dragon, “film buffs will appreciate”. Sofia “Copula” came for a “Lost in Translation” from the Viard couture: not Tik but completely Tok. The city, known for its bars, were there, and so were the students from the fashion idiot factory. When the evening came, the Bimbos, high on beer, and rolling on the sidewalk “which does not gather foam”, filled their throats with badly fucked smal lawyers, a real moment of luxury, and such distinguished voluptuousness! Honestly, I loved it! And regarding Virginie Viard’s collection, I will ultimately only have one word: “Nothing”. This is actually the moment that has surprised me the most in recent years with an article that I read in House & Garden which was titled “How to make Melons fat?”