I’m guessing cats are, what, the new handbag?
I can’t explain why, when I saw this in the grocery store, my first thought was that V.Hudge was snarling at me and about two seconds away from hurling those tiny kitties at my head. Here, she looks much more pleasant than I remember, if perhaps slightly manic about the way she’s clutching them to her shoulders — it’s very, “Mine, ALL MINE,” in a way I imagine (with no basis in fact, Vanessa, I promise) she does with Zac Efron when they’re at The Club or whatever. But mostly it creeps me out that those two wee little things, whose faces are a bit, “I CAN HAZ STARLET?!?”, are being juggled on a cover that’s also screaming at me about sexy jeans, nudity, and lady disease. When they get older, they’re SO going to resent being dragged into all that.
And then there’s this kitty cover:
This thing is the spawn of Hello Kitty and a copy of In
Touch. That cat is wigging me out, man. Maybe it’s the fact that its eyes appear to have been dyed to match Paris’s — by a Photoshop wizard, or possibly, by Paris herself, because that doesn’t seem so far-fetched — but I can’t help getting the feeling that it’s her Mr. Bigglesworth, and she’s the bumbling Dr. Evil who can’t get anyone to take her seriously, and this magazine is her manifesto. It’s of those times when I’m grateful I don’t speak the language on the cover, because I prefer to imagine its cover lines squawk, “Paris is COMING FOR YOU, Nicole Richie [and] Leighton Meester!” Or, “Hilton *hearts* throwing darts at photos of Ashley Tisdale [and] Jessica Alba!” And of course, “Point, Counterpoint: When should U.S. involvement in Afghanistan taper off? Nicole Richie and Leighton Meester!” Actually, I would probably read all three of those. But did they have to drag the cat into it? Between Austin Powers and Inspector Gadget‘s Mad Cat and that damn talking one on Sabrina, The Teenage Witch, haven’t cats in the media had it bad enough?