I have had this sitting in my lightbox for a few days, hoping the perfect bon mot would come to me.
It has not. And while that may be due to my incapability of crafting the perfect bon mot, I think it’s because this outfit is so bad, the perfect bon mot would be wasted on it. Like putting truffle oil on tripe, or basting a shoe in peanut butter. Also, now, the phrase “perfect bon mot” has lost all meaning, to the point where my stomach is interpreting it as “perfect bonbon,” and now I just want candy. In a nutshell, then, this outfit is clearly making me fat. THANKS, outfit. I hope you’re happy with yourself, you piney satin balloon. I hope you at least made her car smell like Christmas.