Oh, Ms. Wearstler. Kelly, Kelly, Kelly.
This is the wearst.
Is there a REASON shirts have to try to be windows? Can we just build some more of them that are made of ACTUAL fabric and not pieces of a mosquito tent?
As more and more pictures rolled in, I finally snapped and e-mailed Jessica, “EVERYONE NAKED AND DUMB AT THIS THING.”
Because it’s just not Cannes without a near-vaginal experience.
In five more years I foresee a new Internet game called “RDJ or Tim Burton?”
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.