What happened? It finally spilled over didn't it? Tom Ford exited the building, Karl was now dead. Wintour was losing her relevance. I say relevance and not touch. Out of touch is this terrible expression that gets bandied around these days along with reading a room and evolving and so on. We are all expected to jump on board with the ridiculous train wreck of the new guard who don't know whether they are men or women, are figuring out where on the alphabet they sit on the rainbow flag, who use words like narcissism like it's nobody's business. And because the rest of us sit in fear of cancellation and therefore remain silent, we watch these people and I say "these people" with a touch of humour because I really don't know who "these people" are and I don't think if you could narrow them down to a "people" that they would know themselves who they are either. That is part of the conundrum. Everyone is so freely moving around these days exploring themselves that they have become like Viet Cong in the jungle, they are are everywhere, but trying to find a fixed location on one target, impossible.

So what do I make of all this bullshit I see at the Met Gala? I don't know. I actually wanted to put a bullseye on me and say "come, slay me, I wish to be cancelled as I give in to all of you". I can't watch some guy have his ding-a-ling and tennis balls hanging low whilst wearing women's boots and a thong, painted in silver with a Ganesh looking headdress with diamantes all studded all over him, an exhibitionist, I don't even think I have ever listened to his music, pushing an agenda I wonder if even he himself believes in. I can't watch this and not feel like we are burning down the house and for no reason. To then see that idiot Jared Leto turn up looking like he was at an amusement park as one of the barely employed carnie acts - no - I just can't accept that this is the new world we occupy. So, like some Roman stoic who must accept he needs to let out his veins in a bath to appease the new order, so too, I offer myself up that if this is what it has come to, I accept defeat in menswear, may some non binary nose pierced new world order bureaucratic sheep come and knock me off my perch, take over my business and rename it "Lae (Both Le and La) Noeud Papillon - non binary vegan products for the next generation.