Well Played, Solange

I believe I’ve mentioned in this space before that I have a tendency to get a version of Stockholm Syndrome with celebrities.

The more we cover them, the more I grow attached to the version of them that I have created in my head. Like, Solange here is — fictionally, but to me — cheerful and wacky and secretly REALLY REALLY REALLY sick of Beyonce getting all the attention and she spends a lot of time hanging out at the MAC counter talking to the heavily-made up dudes who work there about glitter face paint and complaining in a veiled but obvious way about her sister. She is fun, and the inside of her closet is a riotous, obnoxious mess.  And so as much as I truly enjoy it when she leaves the house wearing, like, pants on her head and skirt made of cupcake wrappers, I also love it when she emerges looking cute. The way she does here.

Although I’m sure the MAC guys wish she’d gone with some face paint.