Can We Not Already be Talking About Fashion Week, Please

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You know Frank—he's been writing about menswear, sales, television, new shops, the recession, Lisa Loeb, the Golden Girls and getting blasted for Racked for over a year. Well, we think it's time you got to know him and his quirky-irreverent views on life and fashion even better with his brand new column: Love, Frank. Taking the form of an open letter and always signed with love, Frank will rant about whatever style-related conundrum he encounters in a given week. So buckle your two-toned leather Moschino belts, folks, it's going to be ? Something.

Dear Fashion Week,

Hi.

Christmas was two days ago. There are 20 inches of snow on the ground in New York. We are not leaving the house. We are nesting. And we are very much still in Food Mode. We've received chocolate and wine as gifts. There are leftovers. People baked. We baked. There are holiday cookies. There's a holiday cake. There is bread. There are stocking stuffers.

We are stuffed.

And, come on—New Year's Eve is mere days away. We aren't slowing down before then. Not considering the fact that we know full well that bottles (plural) of champagne—we'll, if we're being honest, sparkling wine—will be happening.

Then New Year's Day—come on—all you can do on New Year's Day is drink and eat yourself back to zero while planning positive lifestyle changes for the rest of the year (or until Fashion Week, whichever comes first).

Meanwhile, we received a Fashion Week save-the-date email masquerading as a holiday e-card almost two weeks ago. And today Fashionista leaked Ruth Finley’s Fashion Calendar for New York Fashion Week.

Really? Really? Food Mode! Holidays! Champagne!

We have 42 days until the opening day of New York Fashion Week—42 days! The very last thing we need to be thinking about, with 42 days until Fashion Week, is looking okay in our clothes—and we will look more than okay in our clothes because we have 42 days to do it.

Just, please, for the love of Prada, give us our last five full days until January 2nd to be disgusting monsters. We're going to get it together. It's going to be magic. Come January 2nd bombard us—it'll help. Until then, we're going to find something to put cheese on.