Dear God. This isn’t even a hot mess; I feel like it’s a lukewarm mess, sitting out on the dinner table, waiting for you to have time to get to it while the couscous clumps into a clammy mess.
It’s… just not right on her, and it’s a LOT of shiny, evil satin. Erika, as a Scientologist, should know that Xenu invented satin right before he blew up all his alien subjects near our planet’s volcanoes, or whatever. I think even her thetan(s) are like, “You know what? She’s pretty, but we’re out. Kick us back up to Venus so we can try again.”