We hardly know what to say, Karl. We just don’t know how you do it. Your stamina knows no bounds. Even now, at 80, you’re pumping out umpteen major Chanel and Fendi collections each year — nay, each season — plus too many other projects to count. You’ve got books and fashion films and popsicles and other things; you’ve even mastered numerous languages, which you’ll shift between to suit the hordes of international reporters who accost you for a quote. Because, Karl, you’re highly quotable. Your frequent Karlisms are always the highlight of our day.

We wouldn’t go as far as to bring up your so-called rival, or how you’ve surpassed him in years, because we always thought that was a fabricated rivalry — mostly. Lives aren’t contests and, as you’ve shown, life’s already too short to do all the things you want to do. So while we never believed the urban legend that you sleep only four hours a night, if your diet and habit of cavorting with lithe young male models have shown us anything, it’s that you can do anything you set your mind to.

Happy 80th, Karl. Howsabout you drag out that old monokini and take a selfie for us? You are, after all, a Millennial at heart.