“Dear Dr. Kim,
“For some reason, or maybe because I’m an old lady in my late sixties, fashion designers and haute couture houses no longer want to ‘dress’ me for media events like movie premieres and other red-carpet affairs. I think I still look quite nice (see attached pics). What should I do?”
— James Bond’s Former Bedmate
I wouldn’t worry about it. Frankly, you look better at 70 than 99% of today’s younger tattooed prostitutes who try to pass themselves off as “models” or “actresses”; and among the older ones like Hanoi Jane Fonda and Titsy Mirren, you look better still.
My suggestion is that you go somewhere like Top Shop or some little boutique in Chelsea, and pick your own red-carpet outfit from among their wares. (Don’t worry if the things don’t look so good; after all, Helena Bonham Carter has been dressing like a bag lady for years, and the glitterati all think she’s “charming” and “eccentric”, when you and I both know she’s simply as crazy as a sackful of wet cats and probably has a naked body which, very unlike yours, looks like a plastic bag of warm rice pudding.)
Then you can just laugh when hundreds of women storm the place where you bought your outfit, all hoping that if they buy and wear the same thing they’ll look as good as you did at the red-carpet shindig. (They won’t, don’t worry.) Then, when Vivienne Westwood or Paul McCartney’s daughter come crawling back to you to wear their latest foul offerings, tell them you prefer the Top Shop / little boutique’s lines over their overpriced dreck, and they can all fuck off.
Frankly, me sexy old darling, long after everyone has forgotten who all these pretentious little fag designers and stupid lesbo poseurs ever were, you and your movie roles will still be causing pup tents to spring up in men’s beds all over the Western world — and isn’t that a better thing, really?
— Dr. Kim