This one is from the Chanel show that Karl Lagerfeld did in Dallas, and I’ve decided he’s punking us with it.
It feels more like a vaguely Southwestern screen-saver that someone put out in 1999, to try and combat the appealing hilarity of Flying Toasters. Or a Tex-Mex ballet — Swan Lake Travis, say, or Cinderalamo. Pick your poison. Just don’t actually consume it, like she did.