I feel like one of those hackneyed crocheted signs hanging in people’s grandparents’ doorways: “Bless this mess.” For these are indeed a blessed mess, and THANK GOD for that, because messes are the bread and butter of GFY (well, actually, bread and butter are our bread and butter, but you get the gist). I debated giving you three guesses who was responsible for this crotch-maiming blooming mess, but you likely¬†wouldn’t have needed two of them, because the Essence of Stella is practically oozing from its lace windows.

[Photos: Getty]