8-10-10
Andrea,
There are a dozen Miranda Priestly's on Facebook, most of whom appear to be Spanish and male, or role playing. I suggest that you not befriend them, though do not assume that I am attempting to dominate your life once more. Just merely paying a warning to your obviously heightened sense of self-preservation.
As you know – and yes, I am assuming here that you have not lost all contact with the real world – Paris Fashion Week has just ended. God, what a disaster. I mean, really, is it too much to ask that when one is invited to show in the Fashion event of the year, that one can display at least a modicum of talent? At this point, I would even settle for an inventive rehash of past collections. Honestly...sometimes...well, sometimes I despair.
The first day, some brainless incompetent had scheduled in a show that entailed getting wet, and I mean, wet, Andrea. Can you imagine? It was...well...anyhow, the mood rapidly descended from there. There was a certain piece that allowed my lips to unfurl at one point; a Greek style dress by Louis Vuitton. Cerulean. You remember the history of Cerulean? Perhaps you still have that hideous jumper; can fish it out now that the colour is making a comeback...you can be Andy once again; perhaps you are already, pretending that the fashion world doesn't have any influence on you, just like before.
However, seeing as you profess to know me so well, you probably know that I digress. Stalling, I believe some call it. For I don't...I don't know exactly why I am even entertaining the thought of writing to you, again. We - you and I - cannot exist, Andrea. You say that personally, you would love to have me in your life, but as I explained, in my life there is no distinction between personal and professional, and as much as you say now that you neither expect nor want an apology for it; time would change your mind. You have an intrinsically beautiful nature, Andrea. I would have destroyed it, in the end. So for as much as you say you understand, understanding does not equal acceptance, and I don't want to see you leave my life twice.
But, as I owe you at least my honesty, I will answer your question. You are right, in that my heart has not been completely Runway's for a while now. But it is something I cannot give up, for what would I be without it? Miranda Priestly, former editor-in-chief. Hard ass bitch. I need more to my name, Andrea, and that is why I stay at the top, regardless of how lonely and unforgiving it is.
Miranda.