Then again, maybe not.
If he turns your crank, however (and he has turned a few in his time, must be the ears) you can try persuading any awkward man of middling height to wear this charming accessory while tripping the light or lumbering fantastic as the case may be.
Dedicated scenester and comeback aspirant Lily Allen sent a powerful visual message yesterday while attending the BAFTAs. The message confirmed long-held rumours in the celebusphere. It’s time, her outfit screamed, to take back our power, to flaunt our true nature, to throw off the disguises that have, for so long, allowed us to pass as other than what we truly are.
We are Reptiles. And we are proud.
Addicts of Mugwump fluid are known as Reptiles. A number of these flow over chairs with their flexible bones and black-pink flesh. A fan of cartilage covered with hollow, erectile hairs through which the Reptiles absorb the fluid sprouts from behind each ear. The fans, which move from time to time touched by invisible currents, serve also some form of communication known only to Reptiles.
In those days of grey terror the Reptiles dart about faster and faster, scream past each other at supersonic speed, their flexible skulls flapping in black winds of insect agony. The Dream Police disintegrate in globs of rotten ectoplasm swepty away by an old junky, goughing nad spitting in the sick morning. The Mugwump Man comes with alabaster jars of fluid and the Reptiles get smoothed out.
The air is once again still and clear as glycerine.
And that, dear readers, is probably the most accurate description of a night and next morning at Lily Allen’s house the world has ever seen. It’s hard out here for a Reptile.
To read more about Lily’s heretofor secret life, pick up this handy guide.
I’m of two minds about this coat, for obvious reasons. And it does seem skimpy, and what is the point of skimpy outerwear? In this case, it’s to flash your skimpy skirt and your ample legs en route to doing a guest spot on Letterman, but in the Real World, a winter coat that flaps wide open with every step is of limited utility.
The shoes, on the other hand, I love unconditionally.]]>
Well, wouldn’t you?
In related news, there are actual Guy Fieri wig/brostache sets for sale, should you be desperate to add the finishing touch to your Douchebag costume this year.]]>
And here we have the lovely and talented Jennifer Lawrence, appearing for Miss Dior the fragrance, which is delicate, classic, young, and probably the scent your grandmother wore the night she lost her virginity (if she wasn’t the “Charlie” class). The House of Dior is one of the greatest design houses and is currently having a wonderful year both in terms of design and in terms of PR, having hung on to the beautiful and fragrant Natalie Portman and now snagged the hottest young woman in Hollywood to represent their most youth-appropriate fragrance.
So it is a mystery to me why they’ve done her up like a very expensive and sweaty butch barfly at last call, but they have. What is more heinous still is having the brass to release this photo in the US with a crappy crop job just to cut out the cigarette. If you’re going to go to such lengths to make something acceptable to the American market, do not simultaneously lower the quality by an order of magnitude, because we can, like, tell. It’s condescending, and it’s not as if it can’t be done well: the French version of Emma Watson’s Tresor Midnight Rose commercial had a cigarette in it; the American did not, but you don’t miss it and there is no visible hole where it was. If we’re going to have censorship in the name of bodily purity, let it at least be done well. At seventy bucks a bottle, it’s not like they can’t afford to pay someone competent.
Actually, I’m not sure this IS a T.E. Lawrence reference. Now that I look again and notice the aviators, I’m wondering if it’s not a clever visual referencing of the star turns of both Ralph Fiennes and Kristin Scott Thomas as the doomed lovers in The English Patient.
PS: last week’s caption contest has taught me that Kardashians aren’t good for Kaption Kontests and they are hereby Kwarantined and sent to Koventry.
All I have to say about this is that it is real, and it is $566.
hat tip/visor tip to Demicouture]]>
Mike Still August 31, 2013 at 7:28 pm Edit #
W: This reincarnation stuff isn’t so bad.
Dick: Shut up. I still can’t go out in daylight, and I got my nuts cut off too.
Me-OW! Congratulations and kudos to Mike for his purr-fect caption. For his hypothetical prize of virtual splendor we present the Cartier Tiger Bracelet, a one of a kind piece that embodies all that is most glorious about the feline.
And just to keep the vibe going, we recommend this awesome piece in the WSJ on the making of one of these bracelets, and this astonishing Cartier ad, with an estimated cost of production of $4 million. That’s a lotta scratch!]]>
If your husband, brother, father or son has ever known the utter mortification of having flashed a shiny shin, perhaps in a job interview, perhaps in an important meeting. Well, tell your XY that the solution has been found! In 1966!
Not only that, but these very socks are still available, and apparently still selling well. Never suffer the indignity of an inadvertent shin flash again!