When I first saw this photo, I thought, “I guess that’s sort of an interesting cocktail dress Leona is wearing.”
And then. AND THEN:
Well, this didn’t take long. Ms. Momsen extracted a compliment from the jaws of doom yesterday, but later on at the same event, she ditched that dress in favor of something a little more typically Taylor:
With the candles and the curtains and the thigh-highs and the sheer bits, she fully looks like she’s inviting you to the back room for a lap dance. For which you would be arrested, BECAUSE SHE IS SIXTEEN OH MY GOD HOW MANY TIMES IS SHE GOING TO GIVE ME THIS SAME ANEURYSM CHILD PLEASE YOU ARE TURNING ME INTO A SHRILL OLD HARPY I JUST WANT YOU TO STOP PLAYING COURTNEY LOVE AND HOLY CATS I HAVE GOT TO HAVE A DIET COKE IN THE NEXT TWENTY SECONDS.
Twenty-five seconds later…
Well. Even Diet Coke didn’t help. I think I need a 12-step group to cope with her pathological need to skip out on her youth. Sweetpea, trust me, you will miss that when it’s gone. Don’t try to be in your twenties now, because then you’ll be in your thirties when you’re actually 20, and although I have had a great run in that decade so far, I am pretty sure I would love another ten years in my twenties to do better moisturizing. So please don’t grow up so fast.
I’m so glad Paris Hilton felt the need to speak to us through fashion.
Because it wasn’t already IMMEDIATELY obvious to anyone within a 100-mile radius that Paris Hilton is always on the prowl.
OH MY GOD, you guys! You’re not going to believe this! Amanda Bynes is wearing a tiny mini-dress and a fake tan!
Up is down and down is up! Next you’re going to tell me that bacon grows on trees and Brett Favre is retiring for good and Audrina Patridge made eye contact with something! WE’RE THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS HERE, PEOPLE.
One thing I love about Fashion Week is seeing all the old standbys who mean absolutely nothing to me for the rest of the year, but whose presence at Bryant Park mean that we will at least have SOMETHING to write about in any given front row. One such person? Leigh Lezark.
Of course, now she means something to all of us: She is the woman who showed us how to wear shrink-wrap over a leotard. My only question is whether, the reviled style of the 90s, that bodysuit snaps at the crotch — if so, and you don’t get those suckers closed super tight, that could prompt a front-row show of a whole different variety. Which would REALLY give us something to write.
Is it wrong that I’m kind of rooting for it now?