Sweet holy hellfire.
Put down the varnish, kid. YOU’RE NOT A TABLE.
I feel right now the way I did a few years ago, when nobody wore anything without jamming a pair of leggings under it.
I need sheer to STOP. I’M OUT. I’ve got nothing. My well is dry. I’ve made all the window jokes, the bra-mask jokes, the forgot-your-real-shirt jokes, the thank-god-she’s-wearing-lingerie jokes, the boobs-craving-attention jokes. I’m beyond not liking this trend; I’m EXHAUSTED by it. This is just another cute girl in another misappropriated exotic tablecloth with another set of boobs playing peekaboo through some lace and LA LA LA LA CAN WE PLEASE GET PAST THIS BEFORE GLOBAL CREATIVITY OFFICIALLY DIES AND MY CAPS LOCK KEY GETS STUCK THIS WAY? THANKS.
There are so many atrocities herein that my soul is currently in hiding. But to start, if I may reinvent a well-worn quote from Mean Girls:
STOP TRYING TO MAKE CROTCH HAPPEN. IT’S NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN.
Hang onto your dentures, because you are about to feel OLD: Avril Lavigne’s first single was almost a decade ago. And it’s just so refreshing to see how much she’s grown…
… her hair.
[Photo: Splash News]